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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER 


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COOPERS 

THE LAST 

OF THE 

MOHICANS 


EDITED BY 

CLIFFORD T. CROWTHER 

ENGLISH DEPARTMENT, LAWRENCEVILLE SCHOOL 
LAWRENCEVILLE, NEW JERSEY 



D. C. HEATH AND COMPANY 


BOSTON 

ATLANTA 


NEW YORK 
SAN FRANCISCO 
LONDON 


CHICAGO 

DALLAS 


I*0«f cmaa 






TZb 

G 7-36 

L 

65 


Copyright, 1932, 

By D. C. Heath and Company 


No part of the material covered by this 
copyright may be reproduced in any form 
without written permission of the publisher. 

3 b 2 


Printed in the United States of America 




1932 

A 50375 



CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Editor’s Introduction . v 

Books about Cooper .xviii 

Author’s Introduction .xix 

THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS.37 

Key.622 

Notes.623 

Questions . 634 

Brief Theme Subjects.641 










TABLE OF ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS 


James Fenimore Cooper. Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Outline Map of New York State .vi 

Cooper’s Grave, Cooperstown, New York, facing xix 
Map Locating Principal Indian Tribes. . . . xxi 

Map of Places Referred to in The Last of the Mo¬ 
hicans .xxiv 

Statue of Leatherstocking. facing 37 


IV 




INTRODUCTION 

Cooper the Man 

Early in the nineteenth century, S. C. Hall, an English 
author and critic, wrote to James Fenimore Cooper for a 
brief biographical sketch to be included in Halhs Book of 
Memories. Cooper’s reply began as follows: “Dear Sir: — 
My family settled in America in the year 1679. It came from 
Buckingham, England, and for a century it dwelt in the 
county of Bucks in Pennsylvania. It, then, or rather my 
branch of it, became established in the state of New York. 
My mother was the daughter of James Fenimore of Bur¬ 
lington County, N. J. I was born in 1789 at Burlington on 
the Delaware, but was carried an infant to Coopers town, 
Otsego Co., N. Y.” 

William Cooper, the author’s father, was a well-to-do 
citizen of Quaker descent. At the close of the Revolutionary 
War he came into the possession of a large tract of land at 
the headwaters of the Susquehanna, and decided to develop 
it as a family estate. In 1790, when James was but thirteen 
months old, the Coopers traveled on horseback to New York 
state, and in the midst of a primeval forest began the settle¬ 
ment of a community later known as Cooperstown. 

There in the wilderness a clearing was made and a log hut 
hastily erected. Every member of the family able to help 
in any way was pressed into service. The little group labored 
hard. They pushed back the encircling forest with its 
shadowy threats of beast and Indian, planted the crudely 


v 


VI 


INTRODUCTION. 


plowed land, and daily thanked God for their health and 
opportunities. The tiny hamlet flourished. Within a few 
years the log house was discarded, and in its place was built 
a pretentious dwelling which for nearly a half century after 
continued to be pointed out as the largest and finest structure 
in all of central New York. 

James, youngest but one of the twelve Cooper children, was 
an eager, restless boy. Intermittently from his sixth birth¬ 



day until his twelfth he attended various grammar schools, 
and studied for a while with the Reverend Mr. J. Ellison, 
English Rector of the Protestant Episcopal church at Albany. 
Ellison was an excellent teacher, and prepared Cooper well 
enough for the youth to enter Yale College shortly after his 
thirteenth birthday. 









INTRODUCTION. 


Vll 


Up to that time life had been an exciting, colorful adventure 
for the boy. Although hard work was plenty, there were 
other things to fire the imagination of an active youth. 
Cooperstown had become a trading post for neighboring 
whites and Indians, and members of the famous Six Nations 
often appeared in the village. The sight of these red men 
striding silently along the tiny main street or wrangling 
gutturally in the general store worked a magic with him. 
He picked up information about Indian traditions and cus¬ 
toms from the talk of the elders. Something in the free and 
roving life of the aborigines appealed to the boy’s love of 
adventure — a heritage from his mother’s Scandinavian fore¬ 
bears. Small wonder is it that he did not enjoy the prospect 
of foregoing these fascinating experiences for the restrictions 
and formalities of a career at Yale. 

Upon pressure from his family, however, Cooper entered 
college. Matters turned out as might be expected. The life 
cramped and stifled him. He spent little time with his books. 
Often he left the campus on long hikes to explore the forest 
and rivers of the vicinity. His imagination, plus a curious 
sense of humor, led him into many a scrape and resulted, 
finally, at the end of his fifteenth year, in his being expelled 
from Yale. Mr. Boynton, his most recent biographer, has 
this to say about the episode: “The cause is obscure. If 
there is any record in the college archives, it has not been 
unearthed. Family legend murmurs of the roping of a small 
donkey in the desk chair of an unpopular tutor. Or, again, 
there is the rumor of an explosion contrived in the bedroom 
of a classmate with whom ardent James happened to be 
in feud.” * 

* From James Fenimore Cooper, by Henry Walcott Boynton. 
The Century Co., 1931. 


Vlll 


INTRODUCTION. 


James’s father apparently took his son’s side in the dispute 
with the college authorities. At any rate, he did not urge 
the boy to patch up the difficulty and return, but, instead, 
permitted him to remain at home the next two years. This 
interval James used in trying to find out what he really 
/wanted to do. He presently came to a decision and told his 
father that he wished to go to sea. The elder Cooper was a 
representative in Congress and the leader of the Federal 
party, and was in a position to assist his son in this project. 
Since there was no naval academy at the time, the boy was 
obliged, if he were to become an officer, to enter the service 
as an ordinary seaman in the merchant marine. Shortly, 
the arrangements were made, and James began his new 
career. 

He signed on the ship Starling of Wiscasset, Maine, and 
under the eye of the bluff old captain, John Johnson, spent a 
year’s apprenticeship as a member of the crew. During this 
period he visited foreign shores and acquired a knowledge 
of maritime affairs, which proved valuable to him when he 
came to write his sea tales. After an extraordinarily stormy 
voyage, he returned, in 1807, to Philadelphia. He received 
his commission as midshipman in the United States Navy 
a twelvemonth later, and spent the next three years cruising 
the Atlantic seaboard and the Great Lakes. 

The possibility of war between Great Britain and the 
United States had, for some time, kept the American navy 
hard at work increasing its equipment. When the govern¬ 
ment decided to build a vessel on the shores of Lake Ontario, 
Cooper was ordered there for duty. He put in a busy winter 
in the forests that fringed the lake, and through this experi¬ 
ence learned much about a territory which he was to use 
| eventually as a background in The Pathfinder. By the time 


INTRODUCTION. 


IX 


work on the ship was completed, war appeared no longer 
imminent. Cooper next visited Niagara Falls; for a short 
time commanded a gunboat on Lake Champlain, and 
finally served aboard the Wasp — a ship destined to become 
famous in the struggle of 1812. On one of his furloughs 
during this phase of his career, he met Miss Susan De Lancey, 
daughter of John Peter De Lancey of Mamaroneck, in West¬ 
chester County, New York. The couple fell in love and were 
married in January, 1811. In the spring of that year Cooper, 
at the request of his wife, resigned from the navy. 

Cooper’s marriage took him away from his childhood home. 
His young wife had no intention of forsaking her family and 
the pleasures of Westchester for the much less refined atmos¬ 
phere of Cooperstown. To this attitude the devoted husband 
offered no objection, but during their honeymoon, the couple 
did go to Cooperstown for a short visit. Thereafter they 
returned to Westchester to live. The bride’s parents were 
wealthy and highly respected, and with his future assured, 
Cooper settled down to the life of a country gentleman. His 
affairs prospered, and he and his wife were happy with the 
family that was growing up about them. 

James Cooper had a strong homing instinct, and in 1814, 
two baby girls having been born, he moved his little family 
to Cooperstown. There they lived on the Cooper estate in 
one of the cottages, which he named “Fenimore,” in honor 
of his mother, Elizabeth Fenimore, and planned and began 
great undertakings. Soon Cooper started a residence which 
he called “The Hall,” but three or four years later, the 
house yet unfinished, he left Cooperstown and built another 
in Scarsdale, New York. It was fifteen years before the 
family returned to Otsego County, but then it was for 
good. 


X 


INTRODUCTION . 


His life over the next few years was not unhappy, but far 
too dull and footless for the man’s active nature. A driving 
force in him not long to be denied presently showed itself 
in a new project. He became interested in ocean trade, and 
bought a ship, the Dering. Skilful management made this 
venture so profitable that James Cooper of “Angevine” 
(his estate some four miles out of Mamaroneck) shortly be¬ 
came an active man of business rather than an indolent 
country gentleman. 

Cooper until now had never thought of writing, for he dis¬ 
liked even the inditing of a letter. He did enjoy books, how¬ 
ever, and often read aloud to his family. In her Family 
Memoirs Miss Susan relates the following incident: “A 
new novel had been brought from England in the last monthly 
packet; it was, I think, one of Mrs. Opie’s, or one of that 
school. My mother was not well, she was lying on the sofa, 
and he (Cooper) was reading this newly imported novel to 
her; it must have been very trashy; after a chapter or two, 
he threw it aside exclaiming, ‘ I could write you a better book 
myself.’ Our mother laughed at the idea as the height of 
absurdity — he who disliked writing even a letter, that he 
should write a book. He persisted in his declaration, however, 
and almost immediately wrote the first pages of a tale not yet 
named, the scene laid in England as a matter of course.” 
He wrote a few chapters, and then would have put it aside, 
had not his wife urged him to finish it. And so was born 
Precaution — Cooper’s first novel. 

Professor Phelps calls Precaution “one of the worst novels 
in history.” Then he continues: “If this book had been a 
success, it is possible that he might never have written 
another. His temperament was encouraged by success, but 
inspired by failure.” 



INTRODUCTION. 


XI 


There was no stopping Cooper; novels and books con¬ 
tinued to come from his pen until his death. 

The Coopers went abroad in 1826. By then, he had pub¬ 
lished six novels; an unfinished seventh, The Prairie , was 
taken along to Europe. For a time he held the position 
of United States Consul at Lyons, France, but politics and 
an irreconcilable point of view caused him to resign the office. 
Cooper immediately set forth on a continental tour, wrote 
and published numerous books, and was pleasantly received 
everywhere. In England, however, he felt that Americans 
were tolerated rather than accepted, and his aggressive 
attitude led to considerable unpopularity and to his decision 
to return home. Meanwhile, seven years had passed. He 
had lost touch with America and things American, and mat¬ 
ters that displeased him he roundly denounced. Bitter 
retaliation followed, and Cooper, always sensitive to 
criticism, began a long and now famous series of libel 
suits — suits in which he acted as his own lawyer and 
invariably won. 

Through all the turmoil, however, he wrote steadily on, 
and Thomas R. Lounsbury, his first bibliographer as well 
as biographer, lists seventy-one titles, all of which, with the 
exception of three or four, appeared before Cooper’s death 
in 1851. 

After his return from Europe, he made his home once more 
at Cooperstown, repaired the old house, and lived practically 
in seclusion. His later years found him a pugnacious, irascible 
man, sometimes with cause, as often without. The result of 
this was perhaps that for which he was looking — an estrange¬ 
ment from the public in general. Yet, through it all, he 
managed to keep his close friends, who held him in great 
respect and genuine affection. 


INTRODUCTION. 


xii 

Near the end of his life he devoted much thought and 
energy to religious matters. As a gesture of sincerity, early 
in 1851 he became a communicant in the Protestant Episcopal 
church. In April of that same year Cooper’s health broke 
down, and on the 14th of September he died. The man’s 
improvidence and poor business sense were now revealed. 
So little money was left to take care of his family that the old 
mansion had to be sold and numerous economies made. His 
wife died four months later. 

Soon after Cooper’s death a public gathering in his honor 
took place in New York City. Daniel Webster presided, and 
addresses were made by many representative men, Bryant 
and Irving among them. Their sincere tributes on that 
occasion show very definitely the esteem in which both the 
author and his works were held. Time, justifying their 
eulogies, has brought even greater glory. 


Cooper the Writer 

The j Encyclopedia Britannica calls Cooper “certainly one 
of the most popular authors that have ever written.” During 
the thirty-one years of his literary career he published seventy- 
one books. Of these, his novels, in particular, achieved such 
international recognition that he lived to see them translated 
into some thirty-four tongues throughout Europe and Asia. 
Today, although relatively few of his works interest the 
average reader, those tales which have survived the years 
are read the world over. 

Cooper’s first story appeared in November, 1820. It was 
called Precaution and purported not to have been written by 
an American. It was extraordinarily bad, and its choice of 
subject, in addition to a significant attitude of the author, 


INTRODUCTION. 


xiii 

indicates a point of view prevalent then among educated 
persons in America. It not only shows Cooper’s ignorance 
of his theme, but a characteristic servility to British opinions. 
Failure as it was, it did not leave Cooper discouraged. Out 
of this unfortunate beginning of a literary career, Cooper 
twelve months after produced The Spy, one of his finest 
books. It was immediately successful and proved Cooper a 
master of story telling in a field with which he was familiar. 
Two years later he brought out a sea story which he called 
The Pilot. The salty tang of this narrative, its fresh approach, 
and realistic descriptions delighted Cooper’s increasing circle 
of readers. 

In 1825 he wrote Lionel Lincoln, a weak, faulty, and dull 
story, which received attention only because of the author’s 
previous books. That same year while visiting Lake George 
with some friends, he overheard one of them remark that such 
magnificent scenery warranted a romance. He promised to 
do a novel with the scenes laid in that region. A few months 
later it was finished, and The Last of the Mohicans, often 
considered Cooper’s masterpiece, came into being. 

Between The Spy and The Pilot appeared The Pioneers, in 
which Natty Bumppo made his debut. Natty Bumppo, 
in the prime of life, is presented as “Hawkeye” in the Mo¬ 
hicans; and Cooper pictures in The Prairie the old age and 
death of this beloved character. 

His next novel, The Red Rover (1828), was another story 
of the sea. He had been living abroad now for two years, 
and had become friendly with the great Scottish novelist, 
Scott. Undoubtedly this famous Scotchman influenced his 
work to some extent, for when Cooper returned to America 
in 1833, he found that critics were calling him the American 
Scott. He had no relish for the term; while acknowledging 



XIV 


INTRODUCTION. 


Scott as his master, he would not agree that the Scotchman 
had been his model. 

Thirteen years after Natty Bumppo had died a peaceful 
death, The Pathfinder was published, and in 1841 The Deer- 
slayer followed. These novels complete the Leatherstocking 
saga, comprising the few books which, of the many Cooper 
wrote, are still read to any considerable extent. The sequence 
of the Leatherstocking stories is: The Deer slayer, The Last 
of the Mohicans, The Pathfinder, The Pioneers, and The 
Prairie. Even though Cooper developed the life of his hero 
out of natural order, his skill leaves only a few rather un¬ 
important discrepancies. 

To the contemporary reader possibly the most interesting 
order of his sea stories is: The Pilot, The Red Rover, Wing- 
and-Wing (1842), The Two Admirals (1842), and Afloat and 
Ashore (1844). Although these tales rank very high, and are 
thought by some to constitute his best work, his universal 
fame still rests upon the Leatherstocking series. 

Cooper’s stories were never planned out beyond the 
making of random notes; rather, they grew under his pen 
in the writing. His great interest was in depicting a scene 
that was in all respects American. His plots consequently 
suffered bodily. Much of the action in his stories is illogical, 
melodramatic, and often unconvincing; but there is no deny¬ 
ing its compelling force. His greatest genius rests in the 
description of forests and mountains, of lakes and valleys and 
rivers, of their majesty as winter lay upon them, and of storms 
at sea. 

Critics have complained that his characters, for the most 
part, are not much more than puppets, moved about to meet 
the needs of his story. His women appear rather pale and 
spineless, and rarely have anything of the heroic in their 


INTRODUCTION. 


XV 


natures. Yet his women are no more like stuffed dolls than 
the women in most of the novels of his time. 

It is.objected that Cooper romanticized the Indians; that 
they were not as he pictured them. But Cooper knew their 
customs and manners, their way of thinking, and their in¬ 
most nature. He knew these things because he had actually 
lived with them. That he portrayed some of them as very 
good and some as very bad, is not extraordinary, for surely 
goodness and badness do not depend upon the color of a 
man’s skin. That his Indians were idealized to some extent 
is true; but Cooper was writing romantic fiction, which 
grants this privilege. If certain of Cooper’s Indians do not 
seem real, or his other actors well conceived, he has at least 
created one immortal character, Natty Bumppo. With the 
possible exception of Sherlock Holmes, he is the most uni¬ 
versally known personality in English fiction. 

Cooper wrote rapidly. He would come upon an idea suit¬ 
able to expand into a story, and in three or four months 
complete the work. Such headlong composition naturally 
resulted in careless lapses in grammar and in a style never 
'completely sustained. His manner of writing is at times 
pompous and stilted, particularly in dialogue. In his descrip¬ 
tions, however, such lapses almost never occur. Cooper knew 
and loved the country about which he wrote, and that deep 
affection is reflected in the dignity and beauty of the pic¬ 
tures he drew of it. 

As a romantic novelist, Cooper is part of a great tradition 
in fiction. Before the novel was known as such, and 
since, romantic writings have never been entirely eclipsed. 
There is, apparently, always a need and demand for books 
in the romantic manner. It is woven into the tapestry of 
English literature as a sustaining thread. In the theater, 



XVI 


INTRODUCTION. 


during the last few years, there has been a very decided 
increase in romantic plays for the stage and screen. The 
Age of Romanticism produced some of the greatest books 
in English literature; and there are signs in our times that 
would seem to be pointing to another such age in fiction. 

Whatever criticisms may hold true concerning Cooper’s 
work, none of them greatly matters. The final test of an 
author’s achievements comes with the passage of time. 
Enough of Cooper’s novels have survived that trial to make 
secure his position in literature. He was America’s first 
novelist; a man who greatly loved his country — for his 
attacks upon certain customs and conditions sprang only 
from that love; a man lightly touched by genius; a unique 
character who may be considered one of the most colorful 
and challenging pioneers in American letters. 


A CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF 
COOPER’S WORKS 


Precaution (1820) 

The Spy (1821) 

The Pioneers (1823) 

The Pilot (1824) 

Lionel Lincoln (1825) 

The Last of the Mohicans 
(1826) 

The Prairie (1826) 

The Red Rover (1828) 

The Notions of a Travelling 
Bachelor (1828) 

The Wept of Wish-ton-Wish 
(1829) 

The Water Witch (1830) 

The Bravo (1831) 

The Heidenmauer (1832) 

The Headsman; or the Abbaye 
of Vigneron (1833) 

A Letter to My Countrymen 
(1833) 

The Monikins (1835) 

The American Democrat (1835) 
England (1837) 

Homeward Bound (1838) 


A History of the Navy of the 
United States (1839) 

The Pathfinder (1840) 
Mercedes of Castile (1840) 

The Deer slayer (1841) 
Wing-and-Wing (1842) 

The Two Admirals (1842) 
Wyandotte, the History of a 
Pocket Handkerchief (1843) 
Ned Myers (1843) 

Afloat and Ashore; or the 
Adventures of Miles Wall¬ 
ingford (1844) 

Satanstoe (1845) 

Chainbearer (1845) 

The Redskins (1846) 

The Crater; or Vulcan’s Peak 
(1847) 

Oaks Openings (1848) 

Jack Tier (1848) 

The Sea Lions (1849) 

Upside Down; or Philosophy 
in Petticoats (1850) 

The Ways of the Hour (1851) 


XVII 


BOOKS ABOUT COOPER 


Barba, Preston Albert. Cooper in Germany. Indiana 
University. 

Boynton, H. W. James Fenimore Cooper. Century. 

Bryant, William Cullen. “Funeral Oration.” 

Clark, Thomas Arkle. James Fenimore Cooper. Parker. 

Clymer, William Branford Shubrick. James Fenimore 
Cooper. Small, Maynard. 

Cooper, Susan F. Introduction to some of the volumes of 
Cooper’s Works. Houghton Mifflin. 

Correspondence, edited by Cooper’s grandson, James Feni¬ 
more Cooper. Yale University. 

Lounsbury, Thomas Raynesford. James Fenimore Cooper. 
Houghton Mifflin. 

Lowell, James Russell. Fable for Critics. Houghton 
Mifflin. 

Parkman’s Histories. See note references. 

Phillips, Mary Elizabeth. James Fenimore Cooper. 
Dodd, Mead. 

Spiller, Robert E. James Fenimore Cooper, Critic of His 
Times. Minton, Balch. 

Various textbooks on American literature. 

Wolfe, Theodore F. Literary Pilgrimage among the Haunts 
of Famous British Authors. Lippincott. 

xviii 






. 












COOPER'S GRAVE, COOPERSTOWN, N.Y 







AUTHOR’S INTRODUCTION . 1 


It is believed that the scene of this tale and most of the 
information necessary to understand its allusions, are rendered 
sufficiently obvious to the reader in the text itself, or in the 
accompanying notes. Still, there is so much obscurity in the 
Indian traditions, and so much confusion in the Indian names, 
as to render some explanation useful. 

Few men exhibit greater diversity, or, if we may so express 
it, greater antithesis of character, than the native warrior of 
North America. In war he is daring, boastful, cunning, ruth¬ 
less, self-denying, and self-devoted; in peace, just, generous, hos¬ 
pitable, revengeful, superstitious, modest, and commonly chaste. 
These are qualities, it is true, which do not distinguish all alike; 
but they are so far the predominating traits of these remarkable 
people as to be characteristic. 

It is generally believed the aborigines of the American conti¬ 
nent have an Asiatic origin. There are many physical as well 
as moral facts which corroborate this opinion, and some few 
would seem to weigh against it. 

The color of the Indian, the writer believes, is peculiar to 
himself; and while his cheek-bones have a very striking indica¬ 
tion of a Tartar origin, his eyes have not. Climate may have 
had great influence on the former, but it is difficult to see how 
it can have produced the substantial difference which exists in 
the latter. The imagery of the Indian, both in his poetry and 
his oratory, is oriental, chastened, and perhaps improved, by 

l This Introduction appeared in the edition of 1851. 
xix 



XX 


AUTHOB'S INTRODUCTION. 


the limited range of his practical knowledge. He draws his 
metaphors from the clouds, the seasons, the birds, the beasts, 
and the vegetable world. In this, perhaps, he does no more 
than any other energetic and imaginative race would do, being 
compelled to set bounds to fancy by experience; but the North 
American Indian clothes his ideas in dress which is different 
from that of the African and is oriental in itself. His language 
has the richness and sententious fulness of the Chinese. He 
will express a phrase in a word, and he will qualify the meaning 
of an entire sentence by a syllable; he will even convey different 
significations by the simplest inflections of the voice. 

Philologists have said that there are but two or three lan¬ 
guages, properly speaking, among all the numerous tribes which 
formerly occupied the country that now composes the United 
States. They ascribe the known difficulty one people have in 
understanding another, to corruptions and dialects. The writer 
remembers to have been present at an interview between two 
chiefs of the great prairies west of the Mississippi, and when an 
interpreter was in attendance who spoke both their languages. 
The warriors appeared to be on the most friendly terms, and 
seemingly conversed much together; yet, according to the 
account of the interpreter, each was absolutely ignorant of 
what the other said. They were of hostile tribes, brought 
together by the influence of the American government; and 
it is worthy of remark that a common policy led them both 
to adopt the same subject. They mutually exhorted each other 
to be of use in the event of the chances of war throwing either 
of the parties into the hands of his enemies. Whatever may be 
the truth, as respects the root and the genius of the Indian 
tongues, it is quite certain they are now so distinct in their 
words as to possess most of the disadvantages of strange lan¬ 
guages ; hence much of the embarrassment that has arisen in 
learning their histories, and most of the uncertainty which 
exists in their traditions. 



Map Locating Principal Indian Tribes 




XXII 


AUTHOR'S introduction. 


Like nations of higher pretensions, the American Indian gives 
a very different account of his own tribe or race from that which 
is given by other people. He is much addicted to overestimat¬ 
ing his own perfections, and to undervaluing those of his rival 
or his enemy; a trait which may possibly be thought corrobora¬ 
tive of the Mosaic account of the creation. 

The whites have assisted greatly in rendering the traditions 
of the aborigines more obscure by their own manner of corrupt¬ 
ing names. Thus, the term used in the title of this book has 
undergone the changes of Mahicanni, Mohicans, and Mohegans; 
the latter being the word commonly used by the whites. When 
it is remembered that the Dutch (who first settled New York), 
the English, and the French all gave appellations to the tribes 
that dwelt within the country which is the scene of this story, 
and that the Indians not only gave different names to their 
enemies, but frequently to themselves, the cause of the confu¬ 
sion will be understood. 

In these pages, Lenni Lenape, Lenope, Delawares, Wapa- 
nachki, and Mohicans, all mean the same people, or tribes of 
the same stock. The Mengwe, the Maquas, the Mingos, and 
the Iroquois, though not all strictly the same, are identified 
frequently by the speakers, being politically confederated and 
opposed to those just named. Mingo was a term of peculiar 
reproach, as were Mengwe and Maqua in a less degree. 

The Mohicans were the possessors of the country first occu¬ 
pied by the Europeans in this portion of the continent. They 
were, consequently, the first dispossessed; and the seemingly 
inevitable fate of all these people, who disappeared before the 
advances, or, it might be termed, the inroads, of civilization, as 
the verdure of their native forests falls before the nipping frost, 
is represented as having already befallen them. There is suffi¬ 
cient historical truth in the picture to justify the use that has 
been made of it. 

In point of fact, the country which is the scene of the fob 


author's introduction. xxiii 

lowing tale has undergone as little change, since the historical 
events alluded to had place, as almost any other district of equal 
extent within the whole limits of the United States. There 
are fashionable and well-attended watering-places at and near 
the spring where Hawkeye halted to drink, and roads traverse 
the forests where he and his friends were compelled to journey 
without even a path. Glenn’s has a large village; and, while 
William Henry and even a fortress of later date are only to 
be traced as ruins, there is another village on the shores of 
the Horican. But, beyond this, the enterprise and energy of 
the people who have done so much in other places have done 
little here. The whole of that wilderness in which the latter 
incidents of the legend occurred is nearly a wilderness still, 
though the red man has entirely deserted this part of the state. 
Of all the tribes named in these pages, there exist only a few 
half-civilized beings of the Oneidas on the reservations of their 
people in New York. The rest have disappeared, either from 
the regions in which their fathers dwelt, or altogether from the 
earth. 

There is one point on which we would wish to say a word 
before closing this preface. Hawkeye calls the Lac du Saint 
Sacrement the “ Horican.” As we believe this to be an appro¬ 
priation of the name that has its origin with ourselves, the time 
has arrived, perhaps, when the fact should be frankly admitted. 
While writing this book, fully a quarter of a century since, it 
occurred to us that the French name of this lake was too com¬ 
plicated, the American too commonplace, and the Indian too 
unpronounceable, for either to be used familiarly in a work of 
fiction. Looking over an ancient map, it was ascertained that 
a tribe of Indians, called “Les Horicans ” by the French, existed 
in the neighborhood of this beautiful sheet of water. As every 
word uttered by Natty Bumppo was not to be received as rigid 
truth, we took the liberty of putting the “ Horican ” into his 
mouth, as the substitute for “ Lake George.” The name has 


XXIV 


AUTHOR’S INTRODUCTION. 


appeared to find favor, and, all things considered, it may possi¬ 
bly be quite as well to let it stand, instead of going back to the 
house of Hanover for the appellation of our finest sheet of water. 
We relieve our conscience by the confession, at all events, leav¬ 
ing it to exercise its authority as it may see fit. 



Map of Places Referred to in The Mohicans 












■ ' 













STATUE OF LEATHER-STOCKING 

Surmounting Cooper’s Monument in Lakewood Cemetery, 
Cooperstown, N.Y. 



THE LAST OF THE MOHICAHS. 


CHAPTER I. 

Mine ear is open, and my heart prepared; 

The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold: — 

Say, is my kingdom lost?- Shakspeare, King Richard II. 

It was a feature peculiar to the colonial wars of North 
America, that the toils and dangers of the wilderness 
were to be encountered before the adverse hosts could 
meet. A wide and apparently an impervious boundary 
of forests severed the possessions of the hostile prov- 5 
inces of France and England. The hardy colonist and 
the trained European who fought at his side frequently 
expended months in struggling against the rapids of the 
streams, or in effecting the rugged passes of the moun¬ 
tains, in quest of an opportunity to exhibit their courage 10 
in a more martial conflict. But, emulating the patience 
and self-denial of the practised native warriors, they 
learned to overcome every difficulty ; and it would seem 
that, in time, there was no recess of the woods so dark, 
nor any secret place so lonely, that it might claim ex- 15 

37 



38 


JAMES FEN 1MORE COOPER. 


emption from the inroads of those who had pledged 
their blood to satiate their vengeance, or to uphold 
the cold and selfish policy of the distant monarchs of 
Europe. 

5 Perhaps no district throughout the wide extent of 
the intermediate frontiers can furnish a livelier picture 
of the cruelty and fierceness of the savage warfare of 
those periods than the country which lies between the 
head waters of the Hudson and the adjacent lakes. 

10 The facilities which nature had there offered to the 
march of the combatants were too obvious to be 
neglected. The lengthened sheet of the Champlain 
stretched from the frontiers of Canada, deep within the 
borders of the neighboring province of New York, form- 
15 ing a natural passage across half the distance that the 
French were compelled to master in order to strike their 
enemies. Near its southern termination it received the 
contributions of another lake, whose waters were so 
limpid as to have been exclusively selected by the 
20 Jesuit missionaries to perform the typical purification 
of baptism, and to obtain for it the title of lake “ du 
Saint Sacrement.” The less zealous English thought 
they conferred a sufficient honor on its unsullied foun¬ 
tains, when they bestowed the name of their reigning 
25 prince, the second of the House of Hanover. The two 
united to rob the untutored possessors of its wooded 
scenery of their native right to perpetuate its original 
appellation of “ Horican.” 

Winding its way among countless islands, and irm 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


39 


bedded in mountains, the “ holy lake ” extended a dozen 
leagues still farther to the south. With the high plain 
that there interposed itself to the further passage of the 
water, commenced a portage of as many miles, which 
conducted the adventurer to the banks of the Hudson, 
at a point where, with the usual obstructions of the rap¬ 
ids, or rifts as they were then termed in the language of 
the country, the river became navigable to the tide. 

While, in the pursuit of their daring plans of an¬ 
noyance, the restless enterprise of the French even 
attempted the distant and difficult gorges of the Alle¬ 
ghany, it may easily be imagined that their proverbial 
acuteness would not overlook the natural advantages of 
the district we have just described. It became emphat¬ 
ically the bloody arena in which most of the battles for 
the mastery of the colonies were contested. Forts were 
erected at the different points that commanded the facil¬ 
ities of the route, and were taken and retaken, razed 
and rebuilt, as victory alighted on the hostile banners. 
While the husbandmen shrank back from the dangerous 
passes within the safer boundaries of the more ancient 
settlements, armies larger than those that had often dis¬ 
posed of the sceptres of the mother countries were seen 
to bury themselves in these forests, whence they rarely 
returned but in skeleton bands that were haggard with 
care or dejected by defeat. Though the arts of peace 
were unknown to this fatal region, its forests were alive 
with men ; its shades and glens rang with the sounds of 
martial music, and the echoes of its mountains threw 


5 

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20 

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40 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


back the laugh or repeated the wanton cry of many a 
gallant and reckless youth, as he hurried by them, in 
the noontide of his spirits, to slumber in a long night of 
forgetfulness. 

5 It was in this scene of strife and bloodshed that the 
incidents we shall attempt to relate occurred, during the 
third year of the war which England and France last 
waged for the possession of a country that neither was 
destined to retain. 

to The imbecility of her military leaders abroad and the 
fatal want of energy in her councils at home had low¬ 
ered the character of Great Britain from the proud ele¬ 
vation on which it had been placed by the talents and 
enterprise of her former warriors and statesmen. No 

15 longer dreaded by her enemies, her servants were fast 
losing the confidence of self-respect. In this mortifying 
abasement, the colonists, though innocent of her imbe¬ 
cility, and too humble to be the agents of her blunders, 
were but the natural participators. 

20 They had recently seen a chosen army from that coun¬ 
try, which, reverencing as a mother, they had blindly 
believed invincible, — an army led by a chief who had 
been selected from a crowd of trained warriors for his 
rare military endowments, — disgracefully routed by a 

25 handful of French and Indians, and only saved from 
annihilation by the coolness and spirit of a Virginian 
boy, whose riper fame has since diffused itself, with the 
steady influence of moral truth, to the uttermost con¬ 
fines of Christendom. A wide frontier had been laid 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


41 


naked by this unexpected disaster, and more substantial 
evils were preceded by a thousand fanciful and imagi¬ 
nary dangers. The alarmed colonists believed that the 
yells of the savages mingled with every fitful gust of 
wind that issued from the interminable forests of the 
west. The terrific character of their merciless enemies 
increased immeasurably the natural horrors of warfare. 
Numberless recent massacres were still vivid in their 
recollections ; nor was there any ear in the provinces so 
deaf as not to have drunk in with avidity the narrative 
of some fearful tale of midnight murder, in which the 
natives of the forests were the principal and barbarous 
actors. As the credulous and excited traveller related 
the hazardous chances of the wilderness, the blood of 
the timid curdled with terror, and mothers cast anxious 
glances even at those children which slumbered within 
the security of the largest towns. In short, the magni¬ 
fying influence of fear began to set at nought the calcu¬ 
lations of reason, and to render those who should have 
remembered their manhood the slaves of the basest of 
passions. Even the most confident and the stoutest 
hearts began to think the issue of the contest was be¬ 
coming doubtful; and that abject class was hourly in¬ 
creasing in numbers, who thought they foresaw all the 
possessions of the English crown in America subdued 
by their Christian foes, or laid waste by the inroads of 
their relentless allies. 

When, therefore, intelligence was received at the fort 
which covered the southern termination of the portage 


5 

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20 

25 


42 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


between the Hudson and the lakes, that Montcalm had 
been seen moving up the Champlain with an army 
“ numerous as the leaves on the trees,” its truth was 
admitted with more of the craven reluctance of fear 
5 than with the stern joy that a warrior should feel in 
finding an enemy within reach of his blow. The news 
had been brought, towards the decline of a day in mid¬ 
summer, by an Indian runner, who also bore an urgent 
request from Munro, the commander of the work on the 
10 shore of the “ holy lake/’ for a speedy and powerful 
re-enforcement. It has already been mentioned that the 
distance between these two posts was less than five 
leagues. The rude path, which originally formed their 
line of communication, had been widened for the passage 
15 of wagons, so that the distance which had been travelled 
by the son of the forest in two hours might easily be 
effected by a detachment of troops, with their necessary 
baggage, between the rising and setting of a summer sun. 
The loyal servants of the British crown had given to 
20 one of these forest fastnesses the name of William 
Henry, and to the other, that of Fort Edward ; calling 
each after a favorite prince of the reigning family. The 
veteran Scotchman just named held the first with a 
regiment of regulars and a few provincials; a force really 
25 by far too small to make head against the formidable 
power that Montcalm was leading to the foot of his 
earthen mounds. At the latter, however, lay General 
Webb, who commanded the armies of the king in the 
northern provinces, with a body of more than five thou- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


43 


sand men. By uniting the several detachments of his 
command, this officer might have arrayed nearly double 
that number of combatants against the enterprising 
Frenchman, who had ventured so far from his re-enforce¬ 
ments with an army but little superior in numbers. 

But, under the influence of their degraded fortunes, 
both officers and men appeared better disposed to await 
the approach of their formidable antagonist within their 
works, than to resist the progress of their march by 
emulating the successful example of the French at Fort 
du Quesne, and striking a blow on their advance. 

After the first surprise of the intelligence had a little 
abated, a rumor was spread through the intrenched 
camp, which stretched along the margin of the Hudson, 
forming a chain of outworks to the body of the fort 
itself, that a chosen detachment of fifteen hundred men 
was to depart with the dawn for William Henry, the 
post at the northern extremity of the portage. That 
which at first was only rumor soon became certainty, as 
orders passed from the quarters of the commander-in¬ 
chief to the several corps he had selected for this service, 
to prepare for their speedy departure. All doubt as to 
the intention of Webb now vanished, and an hour or 
two of hurried footsteps and anxious faces succeeded. 
The novice in the military art flew from point to point, 
retarding his own preparations by the excess of his vio¬ 
lent and somewhat distempered zeal; while the more 
practised veteran made his arrangements with a delibe¬ 
ration that scorned every appearance of haste; though 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


44 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


his sober lineaments and anxious eye sufficiently be¬ 
trayed that he had no very strong professional relish 
for the, as yet, untried and dreaded warfare of the wil¬ 
derness. At length the sun set in a flood of glory 
5 behind the distant western hills, and as darkness drew 
its veil around the secluded spot, the sounds of prepara 
tion diminished; the last light finally disappeared from 
the log cabin of some officer; the trees cast their deeper 
shadows over the mounds and the rippling stream, and 
10 a silence soon pervaded the camp, as deep as that which 
reigned in the vast forest by which it was environed. 

According to the orders of the preceding night the 
heavy sleep of the army was broken by the rolling of the 
warning drums, whose rattling echoes were heard issuing 
15 on the damp morning air, out of every vista of the 
woods, just as day began to draw the shaggy outlines of 
some tall pines of the vicinity on the opening brightness 
of a soft and cloudless eastern sky. In an instant the 
whole camp was in motion; the meanest soldier arousing 
20 from his lair to witness the departure of his comrades, 
and to share in the excitement and incidents of the hour. 
The simple array of the chosen band was soon completed. 
While the regular and trained hirelings of the king 
marched with haughtiness to the right of the line, the 
25 less pretending colonists took their humbler position on 
its left, with a docility that long practice had rendered 
easy. The scouts departed; strong guards preceded 
and followed the lumbering vehicles that bore the bag¬ 
gage; and before the gray light of the morning was 



THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


45 


mellowed by the rays of the sun, the main body of the 
combatants wheeled into column, and left the encamp¬ 
ment with a show of high military bearing, that served 
to drown the slumbering apprehensions of many a novice, 
who was now about to make his first essay in arms. 
While in view of their admiring comrades, the same 
proud front and ordered array was observed, until, the 
notes of their fifes growing fainter in distance, the forest 
at length appeared to swallow up the living mass which 
had slowly entered its bosom. 

The deepest sounds of the retiring and invisible col¬ 
umn had ceased to be borne on the breeze to the listen¬ 
ers, and the latest straggler had already disappeared in 
pursuit, but there still remained the signs of another 
departure, before a log cabin of unusual size and accom¬ 
modations, in front of which those sentinels paced their 
rounds who were known to guard the person of the 
English general. At this spot were gathered some half- 
dozen horses, caparisoned in a manner which showed 
that two, at least, were destined to bear the persons of 
females of a rank that it was not usual to meet so far 
in the wilds of the country. A third wore the trappings 
and arms of an officer of the staff; while the rest, from the 
plainness of the housings, and the travelling mails with 
which they were encumbered, were evidently fitted for 
the reception of as many menials, who were seemingly 
already awaiting the convenience or pleasure of those 
they served. At a respectful distance from this unusual 
show, were gathered divers groups of curious idlers ; 


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46 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


some admiring the blood and bone of the high-mettled 
military charger, and others gazing at the preparations 
with the dull wonder of vulgar curiosity. There was 
one man, however, who, by his countenance and actions, 
k formed a marked exception to those who composed the 
latter class of spectators, being neither idle nor seem¬ 
ingly very ignorant. 



The person of this individual was to the last degree 
ungainly, without being in any particular manner de- 
10 formed. He had all the bones and joints of other men, 
without any of their proportions. Erect, his stature sur¬ 
passed that of his fellows; though, seated, he appeared 
reduced within the ordinary limits of our race. The 
same contrariety in his members seemed to exist through- 
15 out the whole man. His head was large; his shoulders 
narrow; his arms long and dangling; while his hands 
were small, if not delicate. His legs and thighs were 
thin nearly to emaciation, but of extraordinary length; 
and his knees would have been considered tremendous, 
20 had they not been outdone by the broader foundations 
on which this false superstructure of blended human 
orders was so profanely reared. The ill-assorted and 
injudicious attire of the individual only served to render 
his awkwardness more conspicuous. A sky-blue coat. 
25 with short and broad skirts and low cape, exposed a long 
thin neck and longer and thinner legs, to the worst an¬ 
imadversions of the evil disposed. His nether garment 
was of yellow nankeen, closely fitted to the shape, and 
tied at his bunches of knees by large knots of white rib- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


47 


bon a good deal sullied by use. Clouded cotton stockings 
and shoes, on one of the latter of which was a plated 
spur, completed the costume of the lower extremity of 
this figure, no curve or angle of which was concealed, 
but, on the other hand, studiously exhibited through the 5 
vanity or simplicity of its owner. From beneath the 
flap of an enormous pocket of a soiled vest of embossed 
silk, heavily ornamented with tarnished silver lace, pro¬ 
jected an instrument, which, from being seen in such 
martial company, might have been easily mistaken for 10 
some mischievous and unknown implement of war. 
Small as it was, this uncommon engine had excited the 
curiosity of most of the Europeans in the camp, though 
several of the provincials were seen to handle it, not 
only without fear, but with the utmost familiarity. A 15 
large, civil cocked hat, like those worn by clergymen 
within the last thirty years, surmounted the whole, fur¬ 
nishing dignity to a good natured and somewhat vacant 
countenance, that apparently needed such artificial aid to 
support the gravity of some high and extraordinary trust. 20 

While the common herd stood aloof in deference to 
the sacred precincts of the quarters of Webb, the figure 
we have described stalked into the centre of the domes¬ 
tics, freely expressing his censures or commendations on 
the merits of the horses, as by chance they displeased or 25 
satisfied his judgment. 

“ This beast, I rather conclude, friend, is not of home 
raising, but is from foreign lands, or perhaps from the 
little island itself, over the blue water ? ” he said, in a 


48 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


voice as remarkable for the softness and sweetness of its 
tones as was his person for its rare proportions: “ I 
may speak of these things and be no braggart, for I have 
been down at both havens; that which is situate at the 
5 mouth of Thames, and is named after the capital of Old 
England, and that which is called ‘ Haven/ with the ad¬ 
dition of the word ‘New; ’ and have seen the snows and 
brigantines collecting their droves, like the gathering to 
the ark, being outward bound to the island of Jamaica 
10 for the purpose of barter and traffic in four-footed 
animals; but never before have I beheld a beast which 
verified the true scripture war-horse like this: ‘ He 
paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength; he 
goeth on to meet the armed men.’ ‘ He saith among the 
15 trumpets, ha, ha! and he smelleth the battle afar off; 
the thunder of the captains and the shouting/ — It 
would seem that the stock of the horse of Israel has 
descended to our own time ; would it not, friend ? ” 
Receiving no reply to this extraordinary appeal, which, 
20 in truth, as it was delivered with all the vigor of full 
and sonorous tones, merited some sort of notice, he who 
had thus sung forth the language of the holy book, 
turned to the silent figure to whom he had unwittingly 
addressed himself, and found a new and more powerful 
25 subject of admiration in the object that encountered his 
gaze. His eyes fell on the still, upright, and rigid form 
of the “ Indian runner,” who had borne to the camp the 
unwelcome tidings of the preceding evening. Although 
in a state of perfect repose, and apparently disregarding, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 49 

with characteristic stoicism, the excitement and bustle 
a-round him, there was a sullen fierceness mingled with 
the quiet of the savage, that was likely to arrest the 
attention of much more experienced eyes than those 
which now scanned him in unconcealed amazement. The 
native bore both the tomahawk and knife of his tribe; 
and yet his appearance was not altogether that of a war¬ 
rior. On the contrary, there was an air of neglect about 
his person, like that which might have proceeded from 
great and recent exertion, which he had not yet found 
leisure to repair. The colors of the war-paint had 
blended in dark confusion about his fierce countenance, 
and rendered his swarthy lineaments still more savage 
and repulsive, than if art had attempted an effect which 
had been thus produced by chance. His eye alone, which 
glistened like a fiery star amid lowering clouds, was to 
be seen in its state of native wildness. For a single in¬ 
stant his searching and yet wary glance met the wonder¬ 
ing look of the other, and then, changing its direction, 
partly in cunning and partly in disdain, it remained 
fixed, as if penetrating the distant air. 

It is impossible to say what unlooked for remark this 
short and silent communication, between two such singu¬ 
lar men, might have elicited from the white man, had not 
his active curiosity been again drawn to other objects. 
A general movement among the domestics and a low 
sound of gentle voices announced the approach of those 
whose presence alone was wanted, in order to enable the 
cavalcade to move. The simple admirer of the war-horse 


5 

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20 

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50 - 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


instantly fell back to a low, gaunt, switch-tailed mare, 
that was unconsciously gleaning the faded herbage of 
the camp, nigh by, where, leaning with one elbow on 
the blanket that concealed an apology for a saddle, he 
5 became a spectator of the departure, while a foal was 
quietly making its morning repast on the opposite side 
of the same animal. 

A young man in the dress of an officer conducted to 
their steeds two females, who, it was apparent by their 
10 dresses, were prepared to encounter the fatigues of a 
journey in the woods. One, and she was the most ju¬ 
venile in her appearance, though both were young, per¬ 
mitted glimpses of her dazzling complexion, fair golden 
hair, and bright blue eyes, to be caught, as she artlessly 
15 suffered the morning air to blow aside the green veil 
which descended low from her beaver. The flush which 
still lingered above the pines in the western sky was 
not more bright nor delicate than the bloom on her 
cheek ; nor was the opening day more cheering than the 
20 animated smile which she bestowed on the youth, as he 
assisted her into the saddle. The other, who appeared 
to share equally in the attentions of the young officer, 
concealed her charms from the gaze of the soldiery with 
a care that seemed better fitted to the experience of four 
25 or five additional years. It could be seen, however, that 
her person, though moulded with the same exquisite 
proportions, of which none of the graces were lost by 
the travelling dress she wore, was rather fuller and 
more mature than that of her companion. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


51 


No sooner were these females seated than their at¬ 
tendant sprang lightly into the saddle of the war-horse, 
when the whole three bowed to Webb, who, in courtesy, 
awaited their parting on the threshold of his cabin, and 
turning their horses’ heads, they proceeded at a slow 
amble, followed by their train, towards the northern en¬ 
trance of the encampment. As they traversed that short 
distance, not a voice was heard amongst them ; but a 
slight exclamatiop proceeded from the younger of the 
females, as the Indian runner glided by her, unexpect¬ 
edly, and led the way along the military road in her 
front. Though this sudden and startling movement of 
the Indian produced no sound from the other, in the 
surprise, her veil also was allowed to open its folds, and 
betrayed an indescribable look of pity, admiration, and 
horror, as her dark eye followed the easy motions of the 
savage. The tresses of this lady were shining and black, 
like the plumage of the raven. Her complexion was not 
brown, but it rather appeared charged with the color of 
the rich blood that seemed ready to burst its bounds. 
And yet there was neither coarseness nor want of shad¬ 
owing in a countenance that was exquisitely regular and 
dignified and surpassingly beautiful. She smiled, as if 
in pity at her own momentary forgetfulness, discovering 
by the act a row of teeth that would have shamed the 
purest ivory ; when, replacing the veil, she bowed her 
face and rode in silence, like one whose thoughts were 
abstracted from the scene around her. 


5 

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20 

25 


bZ 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


CHAPTER II. 

Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, sola! —Shakspeare, Merchant of Venice. 

While one of the lovely beings we have so cursorily 
presented to the reader was thus lost in thought, the 
other quickly recovered from the slight alarm which 
induced the exclamation, and, laughing at her own 
B weakness, she inquired of the youth who rode by her 
side, — 

“ Are such spectres frequent in the woods, Heyward; 
or is this sight an especial entertainment, ordered in our 
behalf ? If the latter, gratitude must close our mouths; 
10 but if the former, both Cora and I shall have need to 
draw largely on that stock of hereditary courage of 
which we boast, even before we are made to encounter 
the redoubtable Montcalm.” 

“ Yon Indian is a ‘ runner ’ of the army, and, after the 
15 fashion of his people, he may be accounted a hero,” re¬ 
turned the officer. “ He has volunteered to guide us to 
the lake, by a path but little known, sooner than if we 
followed the tardy movements of the column, and, by 
consequence, more agreeably.” 

20 “ I like him not,” said the lady, shuddering, partly 

in assumed, yet more in real terror. “ You know him, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


53 


Duncan, or you would not trust yourself so freely to his 
keeping ?” 

“ Say, rather, Alice, that I would not trust you. I do 
know him or he would not have my confidence, and least 
of all, at this moment. He is said to be a Canadian, 5 
too; and yet he served with our friends the Mohawks, 
who, as you know, are one of the six allied nations. He 
was brought amongst us, as I have heard, by some 
strange accident, in which your father was interested, 
and in which the savage was rigidly dealt by —but I 10 
forget the idle tale; it is enough that he is now our 
friend.” 

“ If he has been my father’s enemy, I like him still 
less! ” exclaimed the now really anxious maiden. “ Will 
you not speak to him, Major Heyward, that I may hear 15 
his tones ? Foolish though it may be, you have often 
heard me avow my faith in the tones of the human 
voice.” 

“ It would be in vain, and answered, most probably, 
by an ejaculation. Though he may understand it, he 20 
affects, like most of his people, to be ignorant of the 
English ; and least of all will he condescend to speak it, 
now that war demands the utmost exercise of his dignity. 
But he stops; the private path by which we are to jour¬ 
ney is, doubtless, at hand.” 25 

The conjecture of Major Heyward was true. When 
they reached the spot where the Indian stood, pointing 
into the thicket that fringed the military road, a nar¬ 
row and blind path, which might, with some little in- 


54 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


convenience, receive one person at a time, became 
visible. 

“ Here, then, lies our way,” said the young man in a 
low voice. “ Manifest no distrust, or you may invite the 
5 danger you appear to apprehend.” 

“ Cora, what think you ? ” asked the reluctant fair 
one. “If we journey with the troops, though we may 
find their presence irksome, shall we not feel better 
assurance of our safety ? ” 

10 “ Being little accustomed to the practices of the sav¬ 

ages, Alice, you mistake the place of real danger,” said 
Heyward. “ If enemies have reached the portage at all, 
a thing by no means probable, as our scouts are abroad, 
they will surely be found skirting the column, where 
15 scalps abound the most. The route of the detachment 
is known, while ours, having been determined within the 
hour, must still be secret.” 

“ Should we distrust the man, because his manners 
are not our manners, and that his skin is dark ? ” coldly 
20 asked Cora. 

Alice hesitated no longer ; but giving her Narragan- 
sett a smart cut of the whip, she was the first to dash 
aside the slight branches of the bushes, and to follow 
the runner along the dark and tangled path-way. The 
25 young man regarded the last speaker in open admira¬ 
tion, and even permitted her fairer, though certainly not 
more beautiful companion, to proceed unattended, while 
he sedulously opened a way himself, for the passage of 
her who has been called Cora. It would seem that the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


55 


domestics had been previously instructed; for, instead 
of penetrating the thicket, they followed the route of 
the column; a measure, which Heyward stated, had been 
dictated by the sagacity of their guide, in order to dimin¬ 
ish the marks of their trail, if, haply, the Canadian sav¬ 
ages should be lurking so far in advance of their army. 
For many minutes the intricacy of their route admitted 
of no further dialogue; after which they emerged from 
the broad border of underbrush, which grew along the 
line of the highway, and entered under the high, but 
dark arches of the forest. Here their progress was less 
interrupted; and the instant their guide perceived that 
the females could command their steeds, he moved on, 
at a pace between a trot and a walk; and at a rate 
which kept the sure-footed and peculiar animals they 
rode at a fast yet easy amble. The youth had turned 
to speak to the dark-eyed Cora, when the distant sounds 
of horses’ hoofs, clattering over the roots of the broken 
way in his rear, caused him to check his charger; and, 
as his companions drew their reins at the same instant, 
the whole party came to a halt, in order to obtain an 
explanation of the unlooked for interruption. 

In a few moments, a colt was seen gliding, like a fal¬ 
low deer, amongst the straight trunks of the pines; and 
in another instant the person pf the ungainly man, de¬ 
scribed in the preceding chapter, came into view, with 
as much rapidity as he could excite his meagre beast to 
endure, without coming to an open rupture. Until now 
this personage had escaped the observation of the travel- 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


X. 


lers. If he possessed the power to arrest any wander- 
ing eye, when exhibiting the glories of his altitude on 
foot, his equestrian graces were still more likely to at¬ 
tract attention. Notwithstanding a constant applica- 
5 tion of his one armed heel to the flanks of the mare, the 
most confirmed gait that he could establish, was a Can¬ 
terbury gallop with the hind legs, in which those more 
forward assisted for doubtful moments, though gene¬ 
rally content to maintain a loping trot. Perhaps the 
10 rapidity of the changes from one of these paces to the 
other, created an optical illusion, which might thus 
magnify the powers of the beast; for it is certain that 
Heyward, who possessed a true eye for the merits of a 
horse, was unable, with his utmost ingenuity, to decide 
15 by what sort of movement his pursuer worked his sinuous 
way on his footsteps, with such persevering hardihood. 

The industry and movements of the rider were not 
less remarkable than those of the ridden. At each 
change in the evolutions of the latter, the former raised 
20 his tall person in the stirrups ; producing, in this man¬ 
ner, by the undue elongation of his legs, such sudden 
growths and diminishings of the stature, as baffled every 
conjecture that might be made as to his dimensions. If 
to this be added the fact, that in consequence of the 
25 ex parte application of f he spur, one side of the mare 
appeared to journey faster than the other; and that the 
aggrieved flank was resolutely indicated, by unremitted 
flourishes of her bushy tail, we finish the picture of both 
horse and man. 



THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


57 


The frown which had gathered around the handsome, 
open, and manly brow of Heyward, gradually relaxed, 
and his lips curled into a slight smile, as he regarded the 
stranger. Alice made no very powerful effort to con¬ 
trol her merriment, and even the dark, thoughtful eye 
of Cora lighted with a humor that it would seem the 
habit, rather than the nature, of its mistress, repressed. 

“ Seek you any here ? ” demanded Heyward, when 
the other had arrived sufficiently nigh to abate his speed; 
“ I trust you are no messenger of evil tidings.” 

“ Even so,” replied the stranger, making diligent use 
of his triangular castor to produce a circulation in the 
close air of the woods, and leaving his hearers in doubt, 
to which of the young man’s questions he responded ; 
when, however, he had cooled his face and recovered his 
breath, he continued : “ I hear you are riding to Wil¬ 
liam Henry; as I am journeying thitherward myself, I 
concluded good company would seem consistent to the 
wishes of both parties.” 

“ You appear to possess the privilege of a casting 
vote,” returned Heyward ; “ we are three, whilst you 
have consulted no one but yourself.” 

“ Even so. The first point to be obtained is to know 
one’s own mind. Once sure of that, and where women 
are concerned it is not easy, the next is to act up to the 
decision. I have endeavored to do both, and here I am.” 

“ If you journey to the lake, you have mistaken your 
route,” said Heyward, haughtily; “ the highway thither 
is at least half-a-mile behind you.” 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ Even so/’ returned the stranger, nothing daunted by 
this cold reception: “ I have tarried at ‘ Edward ’ a 
week, and I should be dumb, not to have inquired the 
road I was to journey; and if dumb, there would be an 
5 end to my calling.” After' simpering in a small way, 
like one whose modesty prohibited a more open expres¬ 
sion of his admiration of a witticism, that was perfectly 
unintelligible to his hearers, he continued : “ It is not 
prudent for one of my profession to be too familiar with 
10 those he has to instruct; for which reason, I follow not 
the line of the army : besides which, I conclude that a 
gentleman of your character has the best judgment in 
matters of wayfaring; I have therefore decided to join 
company, in order that the ride may be made agreeable, 
15 and partake of social communion.” 

“ A most arbitrary, if not a hasty decision! ” ex¬ 
claimed Heyward, undecided whether to give vent to 
his growing anger or to laugh in the other’s face. “ But 
you speak of instruction and of a profession; are you 
20 an adjunct to the provincial corps, as a master of the 
noble science of defence and offence ? or, perhaps, you 
are one who draws lines and angles under the pretence 
of expounding the mathematics ? ” 

The stranger regarded his interrogator a moment in 
25 wonder; and then, losing every mark of self-satisfaction 
in an expression of solemn humility, he answered: 

“ Of offence, I hope there is none to either party: of 
defence I make none — by God’s good mercy having 
committed no palpable sin, since last entreating his par- 


THE LAST OF TEE MOHICANS. 


59 


doning grace. I understand not your allusions about 
lines and angles ; and I leave expounding to those who 
have been called and set apart for that holy office. I 
lay claim to no higher gift, than a small insight into the 
glorious art of petition and thanksgiving, as practised in 
psalmody.’’ 

“ The man is, most manifestly, a disciple of Apollo,” 
cried the amused Alice, “ and I take him under my own 
especial protection. Nay, throw aside that frown, Hey¬ 
ward, and, in pity to my longing ears, suffer him to 
journey in our train. Besides,” she added, in a low and 
hurried voice, casting a glance at the distant Cora, who 
slowly followed the footsteps of their silent but sullen 
guide, “ it may be a friend added to our strength in time 
of need.” 

“ Think you, Alice, that I would trust those I love by 
this secret path, did I imagine such need could happen ?” 

“Nay, nay, I think not of it now; but this strange 
man amuses me; and if he ‘ hath music in his soul,’ let 
us not churlishly reject his company.” She pointed per¬ 
suasively along the path, with her riding whip, while 
their eyes met in a look, which the young man lingered 
a moment to prolong; then, yielding to her gentle influ¬ 
ence, he clapped his spurs into his charger, and in a few 
bounds was again at the side of Cora. 

“ I am glad to encounter thee, friend,” continued the 
maiden, waving her hand to the stranger to proceed, as 
she urged her Narragansett to renew its amble. “ Par¬ 
tial relatives have almost persuaded me, that I am not 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


entirely worthless in a duet myself; and we may en¬ 
liven our wayfaring, by indulging in our favorite pur¬ 
suit. It might be of signal advantage to one, ignorant 
as I, to hear the opinions and experience of a master in 
5 the art.” 

“ It is refreshing both to the spirits and to the body, 
to indulge in psalmody in befitting seasons,” returned 
the master of song, unhesitatingly complying with her 
intimation to follow; “and nothing would relieve the 
10 mind more than such a consoling communion. But four 
parts are altogether necessary to the perfection of mel¬ 
ody. You have all the manifestations of a soft and rich 
treble ; I can, by especial aid, carry a full tenor to the 
highest letter; but we lack counter and bass ! Yon of- 
15 ficer of the king, who hesitated to admit me to his com¬ 
pany, might fill the latter, if one may judge from the 
intonations of his voice in common dialogue.” 

“ Judge not too rashly, from hasty and deceptive ap¬ 
pearances,” said the lady, smiling; “ though Major Hey- 
20 ward can assume such deep notes, on occasion, believe 
me, his natural tones are better fitted for a mellow tenor, 
than the bass you heard.” 

“ Is he, then, much practised in the art of psalmody ? ” 
demanded her simple companion. 

25 Alice felt disposed to laugh, though she succeeded in 
suppressing her merriment, ere she answered, — 

“I apprehend that he is rather addicted to profane 
song. The chances of a soldiers life are but little fitted 
for the encouragement of more sober inclinations.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


61 


“ Man’s voice is given to him, like his other talents, 
to be used, and not to be abused. None can say they 
have ever known me neglect my gifts ! I am thank¬ 
ful that, though my boyhood may be said to have been 
set apart, like the youth of the royal David, for the 5 
purposes of music, no syllable of rude verse has ever 
profaned my lips.” 

“ You have, then, limited your efforts to sacred song ? ” 

“Even so. As the psalms of David exceed all other 
language, so does the psalmody that has been fitted to 10 
them by the divines and sages of the land, surpass all 
vain poetry. Happily, I may say, that I utter nothing 
but the thoughts and the wishes of the King of Israel 
himself; for though the times may call for some slight 
changes, yet does this version, which we use in the colo-15 
nies of New England, so much exceed all other versions, 
that, by its richness, its exactness, and its spiritual sim¬ 
plicity, it approacheth, as near as may be, to the great 
work of the inspired writer. I never abide in any place, 
sleeping or waking, without an example of this gifted 20 
work. ’Tis the six-and-twentieth edition, promulgated at 
Boston, Anno Domini, 1744 ; and is entitled, ‘The Psalms, 
Hymns, and Spiritual Songs of the Old and New Testa¬ 
ments ; faithfully translated into English Metre, for the 
Use, Edification, and Comfort of the Saints in Public 25 
and Private especially in New England.’” 

During this eulogium on the rare production of his 
native poets, the stranger had drawn the book from his 
pocket, and, fitting a pair of iron-rimmed spectacles to 


62 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


his nose, opened the volume with a care and veneration 
suited to its sacred purposes. Then, without circumlocu¬ 
tion or apology, first pronouncing the word, “ Standish,” 
and placing the unknown engine already described to 
5 his mouth, from which he drew a high, shrill sound, that 
was followed by an octave below, from his own voice, he 
commenced singing the following words in full, sweet, 
and melodious tones, that set the music, the poetry, 
and even the uneasy motion of his ill-trained beast, at 
10 defiance: 

“How good it is, O see, 

And how it pleaseth well, 

Together, e’en in unity, 

For brethren so to dwell. 

15 It’s like the choice ointment, 

From head to th’ beard did go : 

Down Aaron’s beard, that downward went, 

His garment’s skirts unto.” 

The delivery of these skilful rhymes was accompanied, 
20 on the part of the stranger, by a regular rise and fall of 
his right hand, which terminated at the descent, by suf¬ 
fering the fingers to dwell a moment on the leaves of 
the little volume ; and on the ascent, by such a flourish 
of the member, as none but the initiated may ever hope 
25 to imitate. It would seem that long practice had ren¬ 
dered this manual accompaniment necessary; for it did 
not cease, until the significant preposition which the poet 
had selected for the close of his verse had been duly 
delivered like a word of two syllables. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


63 


Such an innovation on the silence and retirement of 
the forest could not fail to enlist the ears of those who 
journeyed at so short a distance in advance. The In¬ 
dian muttered a few words in broken English to Hey¬ 
ward, who, in his turn, spoke to the stranger; at once 
interrupting, and, for the time, closing his musical ef¬ 
forts. 

“ Though we are not in danger, common prudence 
would teach us to journey through this wilderness in as 
quiet a manner as possible. You will, then, pardon me, 
Alice, should I diminish your enjoyments by requesting 
this gentleman to postpone his chant until a safer oppor¬ 
tunity.” 

“ You will diminish them, indeed,” returned the arch 
maiden, for never did I hear a more unworthy conjunc¬ 
tion of execution and language, than that to which I 
have been listening; and I was far gone in a learned 
inquiry into the causes of such an unfitness between 
sound and sense, when you broke the charm of my mu- 
sings by that bass of yours, Duncan! ” 

“ I know not what you call my bass,” said Heyward, 
piqued at her remark, “ but I know that your safety, and 
that of Cora, is far dearer to me than could be any or¬ 
chestra of Handel’s music.” He paused, and turned his 
head quickly towards a thicket, and then bent his eyes 
suspiciously on their guide, who continued his steady 
pace in undisturbed gravity. The young man smiled to 
himself, for he believed he had mistaken some shining 
berry of the woods, for the glistening eye-balls of a prowl* 


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64 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


ing savage, and he rode forward, continuing the conver¬ 
sation which had been interrupted by the passing thought. 

Major Heyward was mistaken only in suffering his 
youthful and generous pride to suppress his active watch- 
5 fulness. The cavalcade had not long passed, before the 
branches of the bushes that formed the thicket, were 
cautiously moved asunder, and a human visage, as fiercely 
wild as savage art and unbridled passions could make it, 
peered out on the retiring footsteps of the travellers. A 
10 gleam of exultation shot across the darkly painted linea¬ 
ments of the inhabitant of the forest, as he traced the 
route of his intended victims, who rode unconsciously 
onward ; the light and graceful forms of the females 
waving among the trees, in the curvatures of their path, 
15 followed at each bend by the manly figure of Heyward, 
until, finally, the shapeless person of the singing master 
was concealed behind the numberless trunks of trees 
that rose in dark lines in the intermediate space. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


65 


CHAPTER III. 

Before these fields were shorn and tilled, 

Full to the brim our rivers flowed; 

The melody of waters filled 
The fresh and boundless wood; 

And torrents dashed, and rivulets played, 

And fountains spouted in the shade. 

Bryant, An Indian at the Burial Place of his Fathers. 

Leaving the unsuspecting Heyward, and his confid¬ 
ing companions, to penetrate still deeper into a forest 
that contained such treacherous inmates, we must use an 
author’s privilege, and shift the scene a few miles to the 
westward of the place where we have last seen them. 5 
On that day, two men were lingering on the banks 
of a small but rapid stream, within an hour’s journey of 
the encampment of Webb, like those who awaited the 
appearance of an absent person, or the approach of some 
expected event. The vast canopy of woods spread itself 10 
to the margin of the river, overhanging the water and 
shadowing its dark current with a deeper hue. The 
rays of the sun were beginning to grow less fierce, and 
the intense heat of the day was lessened, as the cooler 
vapors of the springs and fountains rose above their is 
leafy beds and rested in the atmosphere. Still, that 


66 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


breathing silence, which marks the drowsy sultriness of 
an American landscape in July, pervaded the secluded 
spot, interrupted, only, by the low voices of the men, an 
occasional and lazy tap of a woodpecker, the discordant 
5 cry of some gaudy jay, or a swelling on the ear from 
the dull roar of a distant waterfall. 

These feeble and broken sounds were, however, too 
familiar to the foresters to draw their attention from 
the more interesting matter of their dialogue. While 
10 one of these loiterers showed the red skin and wild ac¬ 
coutrements of a native of the woods, the other exhib¬ 
ited, through the mask of his rude and nearly savage 
equipments, the brighter, though sun-burnt and long- 
faded complexion of one who might claim descent from 
15 an European parentage. The former was seated on the 
end of a mossy log, in a posture that permitted him to 
heighten the effect of his earnest language, by the calm 
but expressive gestures of an Indian, engaged in debate. 
His body, which was nearly naked, presented a terrific 
20 emblem of death, drawn in intermingled colors of white 
and black. His closely shaved head, on which no other 
hair than the well-known and chivalrous scalping-tuft 
was preserved, was without ornament of any kind, with 
the exception of a solitary eagle’s plume, that crossed 
25 his crown, and depended over the left shoulder. A tom¬ 
ahawk and scalping-knife, of English manufacture, were 
in his girdle; while a short military rifle, of that sort 
with which the policy of the whites armed their savage 
allies, lay carelessly across his bare and sinewy knee. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


67 


The expanded chest, full-formed limbs, and grave coun¬ 
tenance of this warrior, would denote that he had reached 
the vigor of his days, though no symptoms of decay ap¬ 
peared to have yet weakened his manhood. 

The frame of the white man, judging by such parts as 
were not concealed by his clothes, was like that of one 
who had known hardships and exertion from his earliest 
youth. His person, though muscular, was rather attenu¬ 
ated than full; but every nerve and muscle appeared 
strung and indurated, by unremitted exposure and toil. 
He wore a hunting-shirt of forest-green, fringed with 
faded yellow, and a summer cap of skins which had been 
shorn of their fur. He also bore a knife in a girdle of 
wampum, like that which confined the scanty garments 
of the Indian, but no tomahawk. His moccasins were 
ornamented after the gay fashion of the natives, while 
the only part of his under dress which appeared below 
the hunting-frock, was a pair of buckskin leggings, that 
laced at the sides, and which were gartered above the 
knees, with the sinews of a deer. A pouch and horn 
completed his personal accoutrements, though a rifle of 
a great length, which the theory of the more ingenious 
whites had taught them, was the most dangerous of all 
fire-arms, leaned against a neighboring sapling. The eye 
of the hunter, or scout, whichever he might be, was small, 
quick, keen, and restless, roving while he spoke, on 
every side of him, as if in quest of game, or distrusting 
the sudden approach of some lurking enemy. Notwith¬ 
standing these symptoms of habitual suspicion, his 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


countenance was not only without guile, but at the mo¬ 
ment at which he is introduced, it was charged with an 
expression of sturdy honesty. 

“Even your traditions make the case in my favor, 
Chingachgook,” 1 he said, speaking in the tongue which 
was known to all the natives who formerly inhabited the 
country between the Hudson and the Potomac, and of 
which we shall give a free translation for the benefit of 
the reader; endeavoring, at the same time, to preserve 
10 some of the peculiarities, both of the individual and of 
the language. “ Your fathers came from the setting sun, 
crossed the big river, fought the people of the country, 
and took the land ; and mine came from the red sky of 
the morning, over the salt lake, and did their work much 
i5 after the fashion that had been set them by yours; then 
let God judge the matter between us, and friends spare 
their words! ” 

“ My fathers fought with the naked red-man ! ” re¬ 
turned the Indian, sternly, in the same language; “ is 
20 there no difference, Hawkeye, between the stone-headed 
arrow of the warrior, and the leaden bullet with which 
you kill ? ” 

“ There is reason in an Indian, though nature has made 
him with a red skin! ” said the white man, shaking his 
25 head, like one on whom such an appeal to his justice 
was not thrown away. For a moment he appeared to be 
conscious of having the worst of the argument, then 
rallying again, he answered to the objection of his an- 

1 Pronounced Chin-gah-gook 7 . 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


69 


tagonist in the best manner his limited information 
would allow : “ I am no scholar and I care not who 
knows it; but judging from what I have seen at deer 
chases, and squirrel hunts, of the sparks below, I should 
think a rifle in the hands of their grandfathers, was not 5 
so dangerous as a hickory bow, and a good flint-head 
might be, if drawn with Indian judgment and sent by 
an Indian eye.” 

“ You have the story told by your fathers,” returned 
the other, coldly waving his hand. “ What say your old 10 
men ? do they tell the young warriors that the pale-faces 
met the red-men, painted for war and armed with the 
stone hatchet or wooden gun ? ” 

u I am not a prejudiced man, nor one who vaunts him¬ 
self on his natural privileges, though the worst enemy I 15 
have on earth, and he is an Iroquois, daren’t deny that 
I am genuine white,” the scout replied, surveying, with 
secret satisfaction, the faded color of his bony and sin¬ 
ewy hand ; “ and I am willing to own that my people have 
many ways, of which, as an honest man, I can’t approve. 20 
It is one of their customs to write in books what they 
have done and seen, instead of telling them in their vil¬ 
lages, where the lie can be given to the face of a cow¬ 
ardly boaster, and the brave soldier can call on his com¬ 
rades to witness for the truth of his words. In conse- 25 
quence of this bad fashion, a man who is too conscien¬ 
tious to misspend his days among the women in learning 
the names of black marks, may never hear of the deeds 
of his fathers, nor feel a pride in striving to outdo them. 


70 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


For myself, I conclude all the Bumppos could shoot; for 
I have a natural turn with a rifle, which must have been 
handed down from generation to generation, as our holy 
commandments tell us, all good and evil gifts are be- 
5 stowed; though I should be loath to answer for other 
people in such a matter. But every story has its two 
sides; so I ask you, Chingachgook, what passed, accord¬ 
ing to the traditions of the red men, when our fathers 
first met ? ” 

10 A silence of a minute succeeded, during which the 
Indian sat mute; then, full of the dignity of his office, 
he commenced his brief tale with a solemnity that 
served to heighten its appearance of truth. 

“ Listen, Hawkeye, and your ears shall drink no lies. 
15 ’Tis what my fathers have said, and what the Mohicans 
have done.” He hesitated a single instant, and bending 
a cautious glance towards his companion, he continued 
in a manner that was divided between interrogation and 
assertion — “Does not this stream at our feet run to- 
20 wards the summer, until its waters grow salt and the 
current flows upward ? ” 

“It can’t be denied that your traditions tell you true 
in both these matters,” said the white man; “ for I have 
been there and have seen them ; though why water, 
25 which is so sweet in the shade, should become bitter in 
the sun, is an alteration for which I have never been 
able to account.” 

“ And the current! ” demanded the Indian, who ex¬ 
pected his reply with that sort of interest that a man 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


71 


feels in the confirmation of testimony at which he mar¬ 
vels even while he respects it; “ the fathers of Chingach- 
gook have not lied ! ” 

“ The Holy Bible is not more true, and that is the 
truest thing in nature. They call this up-stream cur¬ 
rent the tide, which is a thing soon explained and clear 
enough. Six hours the waters run in, and six hours 
they run out, and the reason is this; when there is 
higher water in the sea than in the river, it runs in, un¬ 
til the river gets to be highest, and then it runs out again.” 

“ The waters in the woods and on the great lakes run 
downward until they lie like my hand,” said the Indian, 
stretching the limb horizontal before him, “and then 
they run no more.” 

“No honest man will deny it,” said the scout, a little 
nettled at the implied distrust of his explanation of the 
mystery of the tides; “and I grant that it is true on 
the small scale and where the land is level. But every 
thing depends on what scale you look at things. Now, 
on the small scale, the ? arth is level; but on the large 
scale it is round. In this manner, pools and ponds, and 
even the great fresh water lakes, may be stagnant, as 
you and I both know they are, having seen them; but 
when you come to spread water over a great tract, like 
the sea, where the earth is round, how in reason can the 
water be quiet ? You might as well expect the river to 
lie still on the brink of those black rocks a mile above 
us, though your own ears tell you that it is tumbling 
over them at this very moment! ” 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


If unsatisfied by the philosophy of his companion, 
the Indian was far too dignified to betray his unbelief. 
He listened like one who was convinced, and resumed 
his narrative in his former solemn manner. 

5 “We came from the place where the sun is hid at 
night, over great plains where the buffaloes live, until 
we reached the big river. There we fought the Alli- 
gewi, till the ground was red with their blood. From 
the banks of the big river to the shores of the salt lake, 
10 there was none to meet us. The Maquas followed at a 
distance. We said the country should be ours from the 
place where the water runs up no longer, on this stream, 
to a river, twenty suns’ journey toward the summer. 
The land we had taken like warriors we kept like men. 
15 We drove the Maquas into the woods with the bears. 
They only tasted salt at the licks; they drew no fish 
from the great lake: we threw them the bones.” 

“ All this I have heard and believe,” said the white 
man, observing that the Indian paused; “ but it was 
20 long before the English came into the country.” 

“ A pine grew then where this chestnut now stands. 
The first pale faces who came among us spoke no Eng¬ 
lish. They came in a large canoe, when my fathers had 
buried the tomahawk with the red men around them. 
25 Then, Hawkeye,” he continued, betraying his deep emo¬ 
tion, only by permitting his voice to fall to those low, 
guttural tones, which render his language, as spoken 
at times, so very musical; “ then, Hawkeye, we were 
one people and we were happy. The salt lake gave us 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


73 


its fish, the wood its deer, and the air its birds. We took 
wives who bore us children; we worshipped the Great 
Spirit; and we kept the Maauas beyond the sound of 
our songs of triumph ! ” 

“Know you anything of your own family, at that 
time ? ” demanded the white. “ But you are a just 
man, for an Indian! and, as I suppose you hold their 
gifts, your fathers must have been brave warriors, and 
wise men at the council fire.” 

“My tribe is the grandfather of nations, but I am 
an unmixed man. The blood of chiefs is in my veins, 
where it must stay forever. The Dutch landed/ and 
gave my people the fire-water ; they drank until the 
heavens and the earth seemed to meet, and they fool¬ 
ishly thought they had found the Great Spirit. Then 
they parted with their land. Foot by foot they were 
driven back from the shores, until I, that am a chief 
and a Sagamore, have never seen the sun shine but 
through the trees, and have never visited the graves 
of my fathers.” 

“Graves bring solemn feelings over the mind,” re¬ 
turned the scout, a good deal touched at the calm suffer¬ 
ing of his companion; “ and they often aid a man in 
his good intentions, though, for myself, I expect to leave 
my own bones unburied, to bleach in the woods, or to be 
torn asunder by the wolves. But where are to be found 
those of your race, who came to their kin in the Dela¬ 
ware country, so many summers since ? ” 

“ Where are the blossoms of those summers ! — fallen. 


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JAMES FENIMOTtE COOPER. 


one by one: so all of my family departed, each in his 
turn, to the land of spirits. I am on the hill-top, and 
must go down into the valley ; and when Uncas fol¬ 
lows in my footsteps, there will no longer be any of the 
5 blood of the Sagamores, for my boy is the last of the 
Mohicans.” 

“ Uncas is here ! ” said another voice, in the same soft, 
guttural tones, near his elbow; “who wishes Uncas?” 

The white man loosened his knife in its leathern 
10 sheath, and made an involuntary movement of the hand 
towards his rifle, at this sudden interruption, but the 
Indian sat composed, and without turning his head at 
the unexpected sounds. 

At the next instant a youthful warrior passed be- 
15 tween them with a noiseless step, and seated himself 
on the bank of the rapid stream. No exclamation of 
surprise escaped the father, nor was any question made 
or reply given for several minutes ; each appearing to 
await the moment when he might speak without be- 
20 traying womanish curiosity or childish impatience. The 
white man seemed to take counsel from their customs, 
and, relinquishing his grasp of the rifle, he also remained 
silent and reserved. At length Chingachgook turned his 
eyes slowly towards his son, and demanded — 

25 “ Do the Maquas dare to leave the print of their moc¬ 

casins in these woods ? ” 

“ I have been on their trail,” replied the young Indian, 
“and know that they number as many as the fingers of 
my two hands; but they lie hid like cowards.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


75 


i( The thieves are outlying for scalps and plunder!” 
said the white man, whom we shall call Hawkeye, after 
the manner of his companions. “That busy French¬ 
man, Montcalm, will send his spies into our very camp, 
but he will know what road we travel! ” 5 

“ ’Tis enough ! ” returned the father, glancing his eye 
towards the setting sun; “ they shall be driven like deer 
from their bushes. Hawkeye, let us eat to-night, and 
show the Maquas. that we are men to-morrow.” 

“ I am as ready to do the one as the other,” replied 10 
the scout; “ but to fight the Iroquois, ’tis necessary to 
find the skulkers; and to eat, ’tis necessary to get the 
game — talk of the devil and he will come; there is a 
pair of the biggest antlers I have seen this season, mov¬ 
ing the bushes below the hill! Now, Uncas,” he con- 15 
tinned in a half whisper, and laughing with a kind of 
inward sound, like one who had learnt to be watchful, 

“ I will bet my charger three times full of powder, against 
a foot of wampum, that I take him atwixt the eyes, and 
nearer to the right than to the left.” 20 

“ It cannot be ! ” said the young Indian, springing to 
his feet with youthful eagerness; “ all but the tips of 
his horns are hid ! ” 

“ He’s a boy ! ” said the white man, shaking his head 
wmie he spoke, and addressing the father. “ Does he 25 
think when a hunter sees a part of the creatur, he can’t 
tell where the rest of him should be ? ” 

Adjusting his rifle, he was about to make an exhi¬ 
bition of that skill* on which he so much valued himself, 


76 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


when the warrior struck up the piece with his hand 
saying: 

“ Hawkeye ! will you fight the Maquas ? ” 

“ These Indians know the nature of the woods, as it 
5 might be by instinct! ” returned the scout, dropping his 
rifle, and turning away like a man who was convinced of 
his error. “ I must leave the buck to your arrow, Uncas, 
or we may kill a deer for them thieves, the Iroquois, to 
eat.” 

xo The instant the father seconded this intimation by an 
expressive gesture of the hand, Uncas threw himself on 
the ground and approached the animal with wary move¬ 
ments. When within a few yards of the cover, he fitted 
an arrow to his bow with the utmost care, while the 
15 antlers moved, as if their owner snuffed an enemy in 
the tainted air. In another moment the twang of the 
cord was heard, a white streak was seen glancing into 
the bushes, and the wounded buck plunged from the 
cover to the very feet of his hidden enemy. Avoiding 
20 the horns of the infuriated animal, Uncas darted to his 
side and passed his knife across the throat, when bound¬ 
ing to the edge of the river, it fell, dying the waters 
with its blood. 

“ ’Twas done with Indian skill,” said the scout, laugh- 
25 ing inwardly, but with vast satisfaction ; “ and was a 
pretty sight to behold ! Though an arrow is a near 
shot and needs a knife to finish the work.” 

“ Hugh ! ” ejaculated his companion, turning quickly, 
like a hound who scented his game. 



THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


77 


“ By the Lord, there is a drove of them ! 77 exclaimed 
the scout, whose eyes began to glisten with the ardor 
of his usual occupation; “ if they come within range of 
a bullet, I will drop one, though the whole Six Nations 
should be lurking within sound ! What do you hear, 5 
Chingachgook ? for to my ears the woods are dumb. 7 ’ 

“ There is but one deer, and he is dead, 77 said the In¬ 
dian, bending his body, till his ear nearly touched the 
earth. “ I hear the sounds of feet! 77 

“ Perhaps the wolves have driven that buck to shel- 1C 
ter, and are following in his trail. 77 

“ No. The horses of white men are coming ! 77 returned 
the other, raising himself with dignity, and resuming his 
seat on the log with his former composure. “ Hawk- 
eye, they are your brothers ; speak to them. 77 15 

“ That will I, and in English that the king needn’t 
be ashamed to answer, 77 returned the hunter, speaking 
in the language of which he boasted ; “ but I see noth¬ 
ing, nor do I hear the sounds of man or beast; 7 tis 
strange that an Indian should understand white sounds 2C 
better than a man, who, his very enemies will own, has 
no cross in his blood, although he may have lived with 
the redskins long enough to be suspected ! Ha ! there 
goes something like the cracking of a dry stick, too — 
now I hear the bushes move — yes, yes, there is a tramp- 2 6 
ing that I mistook for the falls — and — but here they 
come themselves j God keep them from the Iroquois ! 77 


78 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER . 


CHAPTER IV. 

Well, go thy way; thou shalt not from this grove, 

Till I torment thee for this injury. 

Shakspeare, A Midsummer-Night *s Dream. 

The words were still in the mouth of the scout, when 
the leader of the party, whose approaching footsteps had 
caught the vigilant ear of the Indian, came openly into 
view. A beaten path, such as those made by the period- 
5 ical passage of the deer, wound through a little glen at 
no great distance, and struck the river at the point 
where the white man and his red companions had posted 
themselves. Along this track, the travellers, who had 
produced a surprise so unusual in the depths of the for- 
loest, advanced slowly towards the hunter, who was in 
front of his associates, in readiness to receive them. 

“ Who comes ? ” demanded the scout, throwing his 
rifle carelessly across his left arm, and keeping the fore¬ 
finger of his right hand on the trigger, though he avoid- 
15 ed all appearance of menace in the act — “ Who comes 
hither, among the beasts and dangers of the wilder¬ 
ness ? ” 

“ Believers in religion, and friends to the law and to 
the king,” returned he who rode foremost. “ Men who 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 79 

have journeyed since the rising sun, in the shades of 
this forest, without nourishment, and are sadly tired of 
their wayfaring.” 

“You are, then, lost,” interrupted the hunter, “and 
have found how helpless His not to know whether to 
take the right hand or the left ? ” 

“ Even so; sucking babes are not more dependent on 
those who guide them, than we who are of larger growth, 
and who may now be said to possess the stature with¬ 
out the knowledge of men. Know you the distance to 
a post of the crown called William Henry ?” 

“ Hoot! ” shouted the scout, who did not spare his 
open laughter, though, instantly checking the dangerous 
sounds, he indulged his merriment at less risk of being 
overheard by any lurking enemies. “ You are as much 
off the scent as a hound would be, with Horican atwixt 
him and the deer ! William Henry, man! if you are 
friends to the king and have business with the army, 
your better way would be to follow the river down to 
Edward and lay the matter before Webb, who tarries 
there, instead of pushing into the defiles and driving 
this saucy Frenchman back across Champlain into his 
den again.” 

Before the stranger could make any reply to this 
unexpected proposition, another horseman dashed the 
bushes aside, and leaped his charger into the pathway 
in front of his companion. 

“ What, then, may be our distance from Fort Ed¬ 
ward ?” demanded a new speaker; “the place you ad- 


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80 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


vise us to seek we left this morning, and our destination 
is the head of the lake.” 

“ Then you must have lost your eyesight afore losing 
•your way, for the road across the portage is cut to a 
5 good two rods, and is as grand a path, I calculate, as any 
that runs into London, or even before the palace of the 
king himself.” 

“ We will not dispute concerning the excellence of the 
passage,” returned Heyward, smiling, for, as the reader 
10 has anticipated, it was he. “ It is enough, for the pres¬ 
ent, that we trusted to an Indian guide to take us by a 
nearer, though blinder path, and that we are deceived in 
his knowledge. In plain words, we know not where we 
are.” 

15 “An Indian lost in the woods ! ” said the scout, shak¬ 
ing his head doubtingly; “ when the sun is scorching 
the tree-tops, and the water-courses are full; when the 
moss on every beech he sees will tell him in which 
quarter the north star will shine at night! The woods 
30 are full of deer paths which run to the streams and 
licks, places well known to everybody ; nor have the 
geese done their flight to the Canada waters, altogether 1 
J Tis strange that an Indian should be lost atwixt Horican 
and the bend in the river ! Is he a Mohawk ? ” 

25 “ Not by birth, though adopted in that tribe ; I think 

his birthplace was farther north, and he is one of those 
you call a Huron.” 

“ Hugh! ” exclaimed the two companions of the scout, 
who had continued until this part of the dialogue, seated, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


81 


immovable, and apparently indifferent to what passed, 
but who now sprang to their feet with an activity and 
interest that had evidently gotten the better of their 
reserve, by surprise. 

“A Huron ! 99 repeated the sturdy scout, once more 5 
shaking his head in open distrust. “ They are a thievish 
race, nor do I care by whom they are adopted; you can 
never make anything of them but skulks and vagabonds. 
Since you trusted yourself to the care of one of that na¬ 
tion, I only wonder that you have not fallen in with more.” 10 
“Of that there is little danger, since William Henry 
is so many miles in our front. You forget that I have 
told you our guide is now a Mohawk, and that he serves 
with our forces as a friend.” 

“And I tell you that he who is born a Mingo will die 15 
a Mingo.” returned the other positively. “A Mohawk ! 
No, give me a Delaware or a Mohican for honesty; and 
when they will fight, which they won’t all do, having 
suffered their cunning enemies, the Maquas, to make 
them women — but when they will fight at all, look to 20 
a Delaware or a Mohican for a warrior.” 

“ Enough of this,” said Heyward, impatiently. “ I 
wish not to inquire into the character of a man that I 
know, and to whom you must be a stranger. You have 
not yet answered my question ; what is our distance from 25 
the main army at Edward ? ” 

“It seems that may depend on who is your guide. 
One would think such a horse as that might get over a 
good deal of ground atwixt sun-up and sun-down.” 


82 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


“ I wish no contention of idle words with you, friend, J) 
said Heyward, curbing his dissatisfied manner, and speak¬ 
ing in a more gentle voice ; “ if you will tell me the 
distance to Fort Edward and conduct me thither, your 
5 labor shall not go without its reward.” 

“And in so doing how know I that I don’t guide an 
enemy and a spy of Montcalm, to the works of the 
army ? It is not every man who can speak the English 
tongue that is an honest subject.” 

10 “ If you serve with the troops of whom I judge you 

to be a scout, you should know of such a regiment of the 
king as the 60th.” 

“ The 60th! you can tell me but little of the Royal 
Americans that I don’t know, though I do wear a hunt- 
15 ing-shirt instead of a scarlet jacket.” 

“Well, then, among other things you may know the 
name*of its major.” 

“ Its major! ” interrupted the hunter, elevating his 
body like one who was proud of his trust. “ If there is 
20 a man in the country who knows Major Effingham, he 
stands before you.” 

“ It is a corps which has many majors; the gentleman 
you name is the senior, but I speak of the junior of 
them all; he who commands the companies in garrison 
25 at William Henry.” 

“Yes, yes, I have heard that a young gentleman of 
vast riches, from one of the provinces far south, has got 
the place. He is over young, too, to hold such rank, 
and to be put above men whose heads are beginning to 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


83 


bleach; and yet they say he is a soldier in his knowl¬ 
edge, and a gallant gentleman ! ” 

“ Whatever he may be, or however he may be quali¬ 
fied for his rank, he now speaks to you, and of course 
can be no enemy to dread.” 

The scout regarded Heyward in surprise, and then 
lifting his cap, he answered, in a tone less confident than 
before — though still expressing doubt — 

“ I have heard a party was to leave the encampment 
this morning for the lake shore.” 

“ You have heard the truth; but I preferred a nearer 
route, trusting to the knowledge of the Indian I men¬ 
tioned.” 

“ And he deceived you, and then deserted ? ” 

“Neither, as I believe; certainly not the latter, for 
he is to be found in the rear.” 

“ I should like to look at the creatur; if it is a true 
Iroquois, I can tell him by his knavish look, and by 
his paint,” said the scout, stepping past the charger of 
Heyward, and entering the path behind the mare of the 
singing-master, whose foal had taken advantage of the 
halt to exact the maternal contributions. After shoving 
aside the bushes and proceeding a few paces, he en¬ 
countered the females, who awaited the result of the 
conference with anxiety, and not entirely without appre¬ 
hension. Behind these the runner leaned against a tree, 
where he stood the close examination of the scout, with 
an air unmoved, though with a look so dark and savage 
that it might in itself excite fear. Satisfied with his 


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84 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


scrutiny, the hunter soon left him. As he repassed the 
females, he paused a moment to gaze upon their beauty, 
answering to the smile and nod of Alice with a look of 
open pleasure. Thence he went to the side of the 
•5 motherly animal, and spending a minute in a fruitless 
inquiry into the character of her rider, he shook his 
head and returned to Heyward. “ A Mingo is a Mingo, 
and God having made him so, neither the Mohawks nor 
any other tribe can alter him/’ he said, when he had re- 
10 gained, his former position. “ If we were alone, and you 
would leave that noble horse at the mercy of the wolves 
to-night, I could show you the way to Edward myself 
within an hour, for it lies only about an hour’s journey 
hence; but with such ladies in your company, ’tis 
15 impossible! ” 

“ And why ? they are fatigued, but are quite equal to 
a ride of a few more miles*” 

“ ’Tis a natural impossibility! ” repeated the scout. 
“I wouldn’t walk a mile in these woods after night gets 
20 into them, in company with that runner, for the best 
rifle in the colonies. They are full of outlying Iroquois, 
and your mongrel Mohawk knows where to find them too 
well to be my companion.” 

“ Think you so,” said Heyward, leaning forward in 
25 the saddle, and dropping his voice nearly to a whisper; 
“ I confess I have not been without my own suspicions, 
though I have endeavored to conceal them, and affected 
a confidence I have not always felt, on account of my 
companions. It was because I suspected him, that I 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


85 


would follow no longer; making him, as you see, follow 
me.” 

“ I knew he was one of the cheats as soon as I laid 
eyes on him ! ” returned the scout, placing his finger on 
his nose in sign of caution. “ The thief is leaning s 
against the foot of the sugar sapling that you can see 
over them bushes ; his right leg is in a line with the 
bark of the tree, and,” tapping his rifle, “ I can take him, 
from where I stand, between the ankle and the knee, 
with a single shot, putting an end of his tramping 10 
through the woods for at least a month to come. If I 
should go back to him, the cunning varmint would sus¬ 
pect something, and be dodging through the trees like a 
frightened deer.” 

“ It will not do. He may be innocent, and I dislike 15 
the act. Though, if I felt confident of his treachery ” -— 

“ ? Tis a safe thing to calculate on the knavery of an 
Iroquois,” said the scout, throwing his rifle forward, by 
a sort of instinctive movement. 

“Hold!” interrupted Heyward; “it will not do — 20 
we must think of some other scheme; — and yet, I have 
much reason to believe the rascal has deceived me.” 

The hunter, who had already abandoned his intention 
to maim the runner, mused a moment, and then made a 
gesture, which instantly brought his two red companions 25 
to his side. They spoke together earnestly in the Dela¬ 
ware language, though in an under tone, and by the ges¬ 
tures of the white man, which were frequently directed 
towards the top of the sapling, it was evident he pointed 


86 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


out the situation of their hidden enemy. His compan* 
ions were not long in comprehending his wishes, and 
laying aside their fire-arms, they parted, taking opposite 
sides of the path, and burying themselves in the thicket, 
5 with such cautious movements, that their steps were in¬ 
audible. 

“Now, go you back,” said the hunter, speaking again 
to Heyward, “ and hold the imp in talk ; these Mohicans 
here, will take him, without breaking his paint.” 

10 “ Nay,” said Heyward, proudly, “ I will seize him my¬ 

self.” 

“ Hist! what could you do, mounted, against an In¬ 
dian, in the bushes ? ” 

“ But I will dismount.” 

15 “ And, think you, when he saw one of your feet out 

of the stirrup, he would wait for the other to be free ! 
Whoever comes into the woods to deal with the natives, 
must use Indian fashions, if he would wish to prosper 
in his undertakings. Go, then; talk openly to the mis- 
20 creant, and seem to believe him the truest friend you 
have on ’arth.” 

Heyward prepared to comply, though with strong 
disgust at the nature of the office he was compelled to 
execute. Each moment, however, pressed upon him a 
25 conviction of the critical situation in which he had suf¬ 
fered his invaluable trust to be involved, through his own 
confidence. The sun had already disappeared, and the 
woods, suddenly deprived of his light, were assuming a 
dusky hue, which keenly reminded him, that the hour 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 87 

the savage usually chose for his most barbarous and 
remorseless acts of vengeance or hostility was speedily 
drawing at hand. Stimulated by apprehension, he left 
the scout, who immediately entered into a loud conver¬ 
sation with the stranger that had so unceremoniously 
enlisted himself in the party of the travellers that 
morning. In passing his gentler companions, Heyward 
uttered a few words of encouragement, and was pleased 
to find that, though fatigued with the exercise of the 
day, they appeared to entertain no suspicion that their 
present embarrassment was other than the result of ac¬ 
cident. Giving them reason to believe he was merely 
employed in a consultation concerning their future route, 
he spurred his charger, and drew the reins again when 
the animal had carried him within a few yards of the 
place, where the sullen runner still stood, leaning against 
the tree. 

“ You may see, Magua,” he said, endeavoring to assume 
an air of freedom and confidence, “that the night is 
closing around us, and yet we are no nearer to William 
Henry than when we left the encampment of Webb, with 
the rising sun. You have missed the way, nor have I 
been more fortunate. But happily we have fallen in 
with a hunter, him whom you hear talking to the singer, 
that is acquainted with the deer-paths and by-ways of 
the woods, and who promises to lead us to a place where 
we may rest securely till the morning.” 

The Indian riveted his glowing eyes on Heyward as 
he asked in his imperfect English, “ Is he alone ? ” 


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88 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ Alone! ” hesitatingly answered Heyward, to whom 
deception was too new to be assumed without embar¬ 
rassment. “ Oh ! not alone, surely, Magua, for you know 
that we are with him.” 

5 “Then Le Renard Subtil will go,” returned the run¬ 
ner, coolly raising his little wallet from the place where 
it had lain at his feet; “ and the pale faces will see none 
but their own color.” 

“ Go ! Whom call you Le Renard ? ” 

10 “’Tis the name his Canada fathers have given to 
Magua,” returned the runner, with an air that mani¬ 
fested his pride at the distinction. “ Night is the same 
as day to Le Subtil, when Munro waits for him.” 

“ And what account will Le Renard give the chief of 
15 William Henry concerning his daughters ? Will he dare 
to tell the hot-blooded Scotsman that his children are 
left without a guide, though Magua promised to be 
one ? ” 

“ The gray head has a loud voice and a long arm, but 
20 will Le Renard hear him or feel him in the woods ? ” 
returned the wary runner. 

“ But what will the Mohawks say ? They will make 
him petticoats, and bid him stay in the wigwam with the 
women, for he is no longer to be trusted with the bush 
25 ness of a man.” 

“ Le Subtil knows the path to the great lakes, and can 
find the bones of his fathers,” was the answer of the 
unmoved runner. 

“ Enough, Magua,” said Heyward; “are we not friends ? 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 89 

Why should there be bitter words between us ? Munro 
has promised you a gift for your services when per¬ 
formed, and I shall be your debtor for another. Rest 
your weary limbs, then, and open your wallet to eat. 
We have a few moments to spare; let us not waste them 
in talk like wrangling women. When the ladies are 
refreshed, we will proceed.’ 7 

“ The pale faces make themselves dogs to their women,” 
muttered the Indian in his native language, “ and when 
they want to eat, their warriors must lay aside the toma¬ 
hawk to feed their laziness.” 

“ What say you, Renard ? ” 

“ Le Subtil says it is good.” 

The Indian then fastened his eyes keenly on the open 
countenance of Heyward, but, meeting his glance, he 
turned them quickly away, and seating himself delibe¬ 
rately on the ground, he drew forth the remnant of some 
former repast and began- to eat, though not without first 
bending his looks slowly and cautiously around him. 

“ This is well,” continued Heyward ; “ and Le Renard 
will have strength and sight to find the path in the 
morning.” He paused, for sounds like the snapping of 
a dried stick, and the rustling of leaves, rose from the ad¬ 
jacent bushes, but, recollecting himself instantly, he con¬ 
tinued, “We must be moving before the sun is seen, or 
Montcalm may lie in our path and shut us out from the 
fortress.” 

The hand of Magua dropped from his mouth to his 
side, and though his eyes were fastened on the ground, 


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90 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


his head was turned aside, his nostrils expanded, and his 
ears seemed even to stand more erect than usual, giving 
to him the appearance of a statue that was made to rep¬ 
resent intense attention. 

5 Heyward, who watched his movements with a vigilant 
eye, carelessly extricated one of his feet from the stirrup, 
while he passed a hand towards the bear-skin covering 
of his holsters. Every effort to detect the point most 
regarded by the runner, was completely frustrated by the 
10 tremulous glances of his organs, which seemed not to 
rest a single instant on any particular object, and which, 
at the same time, could be hardly said to move. While 
he hesitated how to proceed, Le Subtil cautiously raised 
himself to his feet, though with a motion so slow and 
15 guarded that not the slightest noise was produced by the 
change. Heyward felt it had now become incumbent on 
him to act; throwing his leg over the saddle, he dis¬ 
mounted, with a determination to advance and seize his 
treacherous companion, trusting the result to his own 
20 manhood. In order, however, to prevent unnecessary 
alarm, he still preserved an air of calmness and friend¬ 
ship. 

“ Le Renard Subtil does not eat,” he said, using the 
appellation he had found most flattering to the vanity of 
25 the Indian. “ His corn is not well parched, and seems 
dry. Let me examine; perhaps something may be 
found among my own provisions that will help his 
appetite.” 

Magua held out the wallet to the proffer of the other. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


91 


He even suffered their hands to meet, without betraying 
the least emotion, or varying his riveted attitude of at¬ 
tention. But when he felt the fingers of Heyward mov¬ 
ing gently along his own naked arm, he struck up the 
limb of the young man, and uttering a piercing cry, as 5 
he darted beneath it, plunged, at a single bound, into the 
opposite thicket. At the next instant, the form of Chin- 
gachgook appeared from the bushes, looking like a spec¬ 
tre in its paint, and glided across the path in swift 
pursuit. Next followed the shout of Uncas, when the 10 
woods were lighted with a sudden flash, that was accom¬ 
panied by the sharp report of the hunter’s rifle. 


92 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER, 


CHAPTER V. 

In such a night 

Did Thisbe fearfully o’ertrip the dew, 

And saw the lion’s shadow ere himself. 

Shakspeare, Merchant of Venice . 

The suddenness of the flight of his guide, and the 
wild cries of the pursuers caused Heyward to remain 
fixed for a few moments, in inactive surprise. Then, 
recollecting the importance of securing the fugitive, he 
5 dashed aside the surrounding bushes, and pressed eagerly 
forward to lend his aid in the chase. Before he had, 
however, proceeded a hundred yards, he met the three 
foresters already returning from their unsuccessful pur¬ 
suit. » 

10 “ Why so soon disheartened ? ” he exclaimed; “ the 

scoundrel must be concealed behind some of these trees, 
and may yet be secured. We are not safe while he goes 
at large.” 

“ Would you set a cloud to chase the wind ? ” returned 
15 the disappointed scout. “ I heard the imp, brushing over 
the dry leaves like a black snake, and blinking a glimpse 
of him just over ag’inyon big pine, I pulled as it might 
be on the scent; but ’twouldn’t do! and yet for a reason¬ 
ing aim, if anybody but myself had touched the trigger, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


93 


I should call it a quick sight; and I may be accounted 
to have experience in these matters and one who ought 
to know. Look at this sumach; its leaves are red, 
though everybody knows the fruit is in the yellow blos¬ 
som in the month of July ! ” 

“ ’Tis the blood of Le Subtil! he is hurt and may yet 
fall! ” 

“No, no,” returned the scout, in decided disapproba¬ 
tion of this opinion, “ I rubbed the bark off a limb, per¬ 
haps, but the creature leaped the longer for it. A rifle 
bullet acts on a running animal, when it barks him, much 
the same as one of your spurs on a horse; that is, it 
quickens motion, and puts life into the flesh, instead of 
taking it away. But when it cuts the ragged hole, after 
a bound or two there is commonly a stagnation of fur¬ 
ther leaping, be it Indian or be it deer ! ” 

“ We are four able bodies to one wounded man ! ” 

“ Is life grievous to you ? ” interrupted the scout, 
“ Yonder red devil would draw you within swing of the 
tomahawks of his comrades, before you were heated in 
the chase. It was an unthoughtful act, in a man who 
has so often slept with the war-whoop ringing in the air, 
to let off his piece, within sound of an ambushment! 
But then it was a natural temptation! ’twas very natu¬ 
ral ! Come, friends, let us move our station, and in such 
a fashion, too, as will throw the cunning of a Mingo on 
a wrong scent, or our scalps will be drying in the wind 
in front of Montcalm’s marquee ag’in this hour to- 


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morrow. 


94 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


This appalling declaration, which the scout uttered 
with the cool assurance of a man who fully compre¬ 
hended, while he did not fear to face, the danger, served 
to remind Heyward of the importance of the charge 
5 with which he himself had been intrusted. Glancing 
his eyes around, with a vain effort to pierce the gloom 
that was thickening beneath the leafy arches of the 
forest, he felt as if, cut off from all human aid, his unre¬ 
sisting companions would soon lie at the entire mercy 
10 of their barbarous enemies, who, like beasts of prey, 
only waited till the gathering darkness might render 
their blows more fatally certain. His awakened imagi¬ 
nation, deluded by the deceptive light, converted each 
waving bush, or the fragment of some fallen tree, into 
15 human forms, and twenty times he fancied he could dis¬ 
tinguish the horrid visages of his lurking foes, peering 
from their hiding places, in never-ceasing watchfulness 
of the movements of his party. Looking upward, he 
found that the thin fleecy clouds, which evening had 
20 painted on the blue sky, were already losing their faint¬ 
est tints of rose-color, while the embedded stream which 
glided past the spot where he stood, was to be traced 
only by the dark boundary of its wooded banks. 

“ What is to be done ? ” he said, feeling the utter 
25 helplessness of doubt in such a pressing strait; “ desert 
me not, for God’s sake! remain to defend those I escort, 
and freely name your own reward ! ” 

His companions, who conversed apart in the language 
of their tribe, heeded not this sudden and earnest appeal. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


95 


Though their dialogue was maintained in low and cau¬ 
tious sounds, but little above a whisper, Heyward, who 
now approached, could easily distinguish the earnest 
tones of the younger warrior, from the more deliberate 
speeches of his senior. It was evident that they debated 
on the propriety of some measure that nearly concerned 
the welfare of the travellers. Yielding to his powerful 
interest in the subject, and impatient of a delay that 
seemed fraught with so much additional danger, Hey¬ 
ward drew still nigher to the dusky group, with an in¬ 
tention of making his offers of compensation more 
definite, when the white man, motioning with his hand, 
as if he conceded the disputed point, turned away, say¬ 
ing in a sort of soliloquy and in the English tongue: — 

“Uncas is right! it would not be the act of men, to 
leave such harmless things to their fate, even though it 
breaks up the harboring place forever. If you would 
save these tender blossoms from the fangs of the worst 
of sarpents, gentleman, you have neither time to lose 
nor resolution to throw away ! ” 

• “ How can such a wish be doubted ? have I not already 
offered ” — 

11 Offer your prayers to Him who can give us wisdom 
to circumvent the cunning of the devils who fill these 
woods,” calmly interrupted the scout, “ but spare your 
offers of money, which neither you may live to realize 
nor I to profit by. These Mohicans and I will do what 
man’s thoughts can invent to keep such flowers, which, 
though so sweet, were never made for the wilderness. 


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JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


from harm, and that without hope of any other recom* 
pense but such as God always gives to upright dealings. 
First, you must promise two things, both in your own 
name and for your friends, or without serving you we 
5 shall only injure ourselves !” 

“Name them.” 

“ The one is, to be still as these sleeping woods, let 
what will happen; and the other is to keep the place 
where we shall take you forever a secret from all mor- 
10 tal men.” 

“I will do my utmost to see both these conditions 
fulfilled.” 

“ Then follow, for we are losing moments that are as 
precious as the heart’s blood to a stricken deer! ” 
j5 Heyward could distinguish the impatient gesture of 
the scout through the increasing shadows of the even¬ 
ing, and moved in his footsteps swiftly towards the 
place where he had left the remainder of his party. 
When they rejoined the expecting and anxious females, 
20 he briefly acquainted them with the conditions of theii 
new guide, and with the necessity that existed for their 
hushing every apprehension in instant and serious exer¬ 
tions. Although his alarming communication was not 
received without much secret terror by the listeners, his 
25 earnest and impressive manner, aided perhaps by the 
nature of the danger, succeeded in bracing their nerves 
to undergo some unlooked for and unusual trial. Si¬ 
lently, and without a moment’s delay, they permitted 
him to assist them from their saddles, when they 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICAN'S. 


97 


descended quickly to the water’s edge, where the scout 
had collected the rest of the party, more by the agency 
of his expressive gestures than by any use of words. 

“ What to do with these dumb creatures ! ” muttered 
the white man, on whom the sole control of their future 5 
movements appeared to devolve ; “ it would be time lost 
to cut their throats, and cast them into the river; and to 
leave them here would be to tell the Mingos that they 
have not far to seek to find their owners ! ” 

“ Then give them their bridles and let them range 10 
the woods*” Heyward ventured to suggest. 

“No; it would be better to mislead the imps, and 
make them believe they must equal a horse’s speed to 
run down their chase. Ay, ay, that will blind their 
fire-balls of eyes! Chingach — Hist! what stirs the 15 
bush ? ” 

“ The colt.” 

“ That colt, at least, must die,” muttered the scout, 
grasping at the mane of the nimble beast, which easity 
eluded his hand ; “ Uncas, your arrows ! ” 20 

“ Hold ! ” exclaimed the proprietor of the condemned 
animal aloud, without regard to the whispering tones 
used by the others; “ spare the foal of Miriam! it is a 
comely offspring of a faithful dam, and would willingly 
injure naught.” 25 

“ When men struggle for the single life God has given 
them,” said the scout sternly, “ even their own kind seem 
no more than the beasts of the wood. If you speak 
again, I shall leave you to the mercy of the Maquas! 


98 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Draw to your arrow’s head, Uncas; we have no time for 
second blows ! ” 

The low, muttering sounds of his threatening voice 
were still audible, when the wounded foal, first rearing 
5 on its hinder legs, plunged forward to its knees. It was 
met by Chingachgook, whose knife passed across its 
throat quicker than thought, and then precipitating^ 
the motions of the struggling victim, he dashed it into 
the river, down whose stream it glided away, gasping 
10 audibly for breath with its ebbing life. This deed of 
apparent cruelty, but of real necessity, fell* upon the 
spirits of the travellers, like a terrific warning of the 
peril in which they stood, heightened, as it was, by 
the calm though steady resolution of the actors in the 
15 scene. The sisters shuddered, and clung closer to each 
other, while Heyward instinctively laid his hand on one 
of the pistols he had just drawn from their holsters, as 
he placed himself between his charge and those dense 
shadows, that seemed to draw an impenetrable veil 
20 before the bosom of the forest. 

The Indians, however, hesitated not a moment, but 
taking the bridles they led the frightened and reluctant 
horses into the bed of the river. 

At a short distance from the shore, they turned, and 
25 were soon concealed by the projection of the bank, under 
the brow of which they moved in a direction opposite to 
the course of the waters. In the meantime the scout 
drew a canoe of bark from its place of concealment 
beneath some low bushes, whose branches were waving 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 99 

with the eddies of the current, into which he silently 
motioned the females to enter. They complied without 
hesitation, though many a fearful and anxious glance 
was thrown behind them, towards the thickening gloom, 
which now lay like a dark barrier along the margin of 
the stream. 

So soon as Cora and Alice were seated, the scout, with¬ 
out regarding the element, directed Heyward to support 
one side of the frail vessel, and posting himself at the 
other, they bore it up against the stream, followed by 
the dejected owner of the dead foal. In this manner 
they proceeded for many rods in a silence that was only 
interrupted by the rippling of the water, as its eddies 
played around them, or the low dash made by their own 
cautious footsteps. Heyward yielded the guidance of 
the canoe implicitly to the scout, who approached or 
receded from the shore, to avoid the fragments of rocks, 
or deeper parts of the river, with a readiness that showed 
his knowledge of the route they held. Occasionally he 
would stop; and in the midst of a breathing stillness, 
that the dull but increasing roar of the waterfall only 
served to render more impressive, he would listen with 
painful intenseness to catch any sounds that might arise 
from the slumbering forest. When assured that all was 
still, and unable to detect, even by the aid of his prac¬ 
tised senses, any sign of approaching foes, he would de¬ 
liberately resume his slow and guarded progress. At 
length they reached a point in the river where the rov¬ 
ing eye of Heyward became riveted on a cluster of black 


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100 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


objects collected at a spot where the high bank threw a 
deeper shadow than usual on the dark waters. Hesitat¬ 
ing to advance, he pointed out the place to the attention 
of his companion. 

5 “Ay,” returned the composed scout, “ the Indians have 

hid the beasts with the judgment of natives ! Water 
leaves no trail, and an owl’s eyes would be blinded by 
the darkness of such a hole.” 

The whole party were soon reunited, and another con- 
10 sultation was held between the scout and his new com¬ 
rades, during which they, whose fates depended on the 
faith and ingenuity of these unknown foresters, had a 
little leisure to observe their situation more minutely. 

The river was confined between high and cragged 
15 rocks, one of which impended above the spot where the 
canoe rested. As these, again, were surmounted by tall 
trees, which appeared to totter on the brows of the 
precipice, it gave the stream the appearance of running 
through a deep and narrow dell. All beneath the fan- 
20 tastic limbs and ragged tree-tops, which were, here and 
there, dimly painted against the starry zenith, lay alike 
in shadowed obscurity. Behind them the curvature of 
the banks soon bounded the view by the same dark and 
wooded outline; but in front, and apparently at no 
25 great distance, the water seemed piled against the 
heavens, whence it tumbled into caverns out of which 
issued those sullen sounds that had loaded the evening 
atmosphere. It seemed, in truth, to be a spot devoted 
to seclusion, and the sisters imbibed a soothing impres- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


101 


sion of security, as they gazed upon its romantic, though 
not unappalling beauties. A general movement among 
their conductors, however, soon recalled them from a 
contemplation of the wild charms that night had as¬ 
sisted to lend the place, to a painful sense of their real 5 
peril. 

The horses had been secured to some scattering shrubs 
that grew in the fissures of the rocks, where, standing 
in the water, they were left to pass the night. The scout 
directed Heyward and his disconsolate fellow-travellers 10 
to seat themselves in the forward end of the canoe, and 
took possession of the other himself, as erect and steady 
as if he floated in a vessel of much firmer materials. 
The Indians warily retraced their steps towards the 
place they had left, when the scout, placing his pole 15 
against a rock, by a powerful shove sent his frail bark 
directly into the centre of the turbulent stream. For 
many minutes the struggle between the light bubble in 
which they floated and the swift current was severe and 
doubtful. Forbidden to stir even a hand, and almost 20 
afraid to breathe, lest they should expose the frail 
fabric to the fury of the stream, the passengers watched 
the glancing waters in feverish suspense. Twenty times 
they thought the whirling eddies were sweeping them 
to destruction, when the master-hand of their pilot would 2E 
bring the bows of the canoe to stem the rapid. A long, 
a vigorous, and, as it appeared to the females, a des¬ 
perate effort, closed the struggle. Just as Alice veiled 
her eyes in horror, under the impression that they were 


102 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


about to be swept within the vortex at the foot of the 
cataract, the canoe floated, stationary, at the side of a 
flat rock that lay on a level with the water. 

“ Where are we, and what is next to be done ? ” de- 
5 manded Heyward, perceiving that the exertions of the 
scout had ceased. 

“ You are at the foot of Glenn’s,” returned the other, 
speaking aloud, without fear of consequences, within the 
roar of the cataract; “ and the next thing is to make a 
10 steady landing, lest the canoe upsets, and you should go 
down again the hard road we have travelled, faster than 
you came up it; ’tis a hard rift to stem, when the river 
is a little swelled; and five is an unnatural number to 
keep dry in the hurry-skurry, with a little birchen bark 
15 and gum. There, go you all on the rock, and I will 
bring up the Mohicans with the venison. A man had 
better sleep without his scalp than famish in the midst 
of plenty.” 

His passengers gladly complied with these directions. 
20 As the last foot touched the rock, the canoe whirled from 
its station, when the tall form of the scout was seen, for 
an instant, gliding above the waters, before it disap¬ 
peared in the impenetrable darkness that rested on the 
bed of the river. Left by their guide, the travellers re- 
25 mained a few minutes in helpless ignorance, afraid even 
to move along the broken rocks, lest a false step should 
precipitate them down some one of the many deep and 
roaring caverns into which the water seemed to tumble 
on every side of them. Their suspense, however, was 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


103 


soon relieved; for, aided by the skill of the natives, the 
canoe shot back into the eddy, and floated again at the 
side of the low rock before they thought the scout had 
even time to rejoin his companions. 

u We are now fortified, garrisoned, and provisioned,” 
cried Heyward cheerfully, “ and may set Montcalm and 
his allies at defiance. How, now, my vigilant sentinel, 
can you see anything of those you call the Iroquois on 
the main land ? ” 

“ I call them Iroquois, because to me every native who 
speaks a foreign tongue is accounted an enemy, though 
he may pretend to serve the king ! If Webb wants faith 
and honesty in an Indian, let him bring out the tribes of 
the Delawares, and send these greedy and lying Mohawks 
and Oneidas, with their six nations of varlets, where in 
nature they belong, among the Frenchmen! ” 

“ We should then exchange a warlike for a useless 
friend ! I have heard that the Delawares have laid aside 
the hatchet, and are content to be called women ! ” 

“ Ay, shame on the Hollanders and Iroquois, who cir¬ 
cumvented them by their deviltries into such a treaty! 
But I have known them for twenty years, and I call 
him liar that says cowardly blood runs in the veins of a 
Delaware. You have driven their tribes from the sea¬ 
shore, and would now believe what their enemies say, 
that you may sleep at night upon an easy pillow. Ho, 
no ; to me, every Indian who speaks a foreign tongue is 
an Iroquois, whether the castle of his tribe be in Canada 
or be in York.” 


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104 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Heyward perceiving that the stubborn adherence of 
the scout to the cause of his friends the Delawares or 
Mohicans, for they were branches of the same numerous 
people, was likely to prolong a useless discussion, 
5 changed the subject. 

“ Treaty or no treaty, I know full well that your two 
companions are brave and cautious warriors. Have they 
heard or seen anything of our enemies ? ” 

“An Indian is a mortal to be felt afore he is seen,” 
10 returned the scout, ascending the rock, and throwing the 
deer carelessly down. “ I trust to other signs than such 
as come in at the eye, when I am outlying on the trail 
of the Mingos.” 

“ Do your ears tell you that they have traced our re- 
15 treat ? ” 

“ I should be sorry to think they had, though this is 
a spot that stout courage might hold for a smart skrim- 
mage. I will not deny, however, but the horses cow¬ 
ered when I passed them, as though they scented the 
20 wolves; and the wolf is a beast that is apt to hover about 
an Indian ambushment, craving the offals of the deer 
the savages kill.” 

“ You forget the buck at your feet! or may we not 
owe their visit to the dead colt? Ha! what noise is 
25 that ? ” 

_ “ Poor Miriam,” murmured the stranger ; “ thy foal 
was foreordained to become a prey to ravenous beasts! ” 
Then suddenly lifting up his voice amid the eternal din 
of the waters, he sang aloud — 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


105 


“First born of Egypt, smite did he, 

Of mankind, and of beast also ; 

O Egypt ! wonders sent ’midst thee, 

On Pharaoh and his servants too !” 

“ The death of the colt sits heavy on the heart of its 
owner,” said the scout; “ but it’s a good sign to see a 
man account upon his dumb friends. He has the re¬ 
ligion of the matter, in believing what is to happen will 
happen; and with such a consolation it won’t be long 
afore he submits to the rationality of killing a four- 
footed beast to save the lives of human men. It may 
be as you say, ” he continued, reverting to the purport of 
Heyward’s last remark; “ and the greater the reason 
why we should cut our steaks, and let the carcass drive 
down the stream, or we shall have the pack howling 
along the cliffs, begrudging every mouthful we swallow. 
Besides, though the Delaware tongue is the same as a 
book to the Iroquois, the cunning varlets are quick 
enough at understanding the reason of a wolf’s howl.” 

The scout, whilst making his remarks, was busied in 
collecting certain necessary implements; as he con¬ 
cluded, he moved silently by the group of travellers, 
accompanied by the Mohicans, who seemed to compre¬ 
hend his intentions with instinctive readiness, when the 
whole three disappeared in succession, seeming to vanish 
against the dark face of a perpendicular rock that rose 
to the height of a few yards within as many feet of the 
water’s edge. 


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106 


JAMES FEJS1MORE COOPER. 


CHAPTEE VI. 

Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, 

He wales a portion with judicious care; 

And, “ Let us worship God,” he says, with solemn air. 

Burns, The Cotter’s Saturday Night. 

Heyward and his female companions witnessed this 
mysterious movement with secret uneasiness; for, 
though the conduct of the white man had hitherto been 
above reproach, his rude equipments, blunt address, and 
5 strong antipathies, together with the character of his 
silent associates, were all causes for exciting distrust in 
minds that had been so recently alarmed by Indian 
treachery. 

The stranger alone disregarded the passing incidents. 
10 He seated himself on a projection of the rocks, whence 
he gave no other signs of consciousness than by the 
struggles of his spirit, as manifested in frequent and 
heavy sighs. Smothered voices were next heard, as 
though men called to each other in the bowels of the 
15 earth, when a sudden light flashed upon those without, 
and laid bare the much prized secret of the place. 

At the farther extremity of a narrow, deep cavern in 
the rock, whose length appeared much extended by the 
perspective and the nature of the light by which it was 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


107 


seen, was seated the scout, holding a blazing knot of 
pine. The strong glare of the fire fell full upon his 
sturdy, weather-beaten countenance and forest attire, 
lending an air of romantic wildness to the aspect of an 
individual who, seen by the sober light of day, would 5 
have exhibited the peculiarities of a man remarkable for 
the strangeness of his dress, the iron-like inflexibility of 
his frame, and the singular compound of quick, vigilant 
sagacity, and of exquisite simplicity, that by turns 
usurped the possession of his muscular features. At a id 
little distance in advance stood Uncas, his whole person 
thrown powerfully into view. The travellers anxiously 
regarded the upright, flexible figure of the young Mohi¬ 
can, graceful and unrestrained in the attitudes and 
movements of nature. Though his person was more 15 
than usually screened by a green and fringed hunting- 
shirt, like that of the white man, there was no conceal¬ 
ment to his dark, glancing, fearless eye, alike terrible 
and calm; the bold outline of his high, haughty fea¬ 
tures, pure in their native red; or to the dignified eleva- 20 
tion of his receding forehead, together with all the finest 
proportions of a noble head, bared to the generous scalp¬ 
ing-tuft. 1 It was the first opportunity possessed by 
Duncan and his companions to view the marked linea¬ 
ments of either of their Indian attendants, and each in- 25 

i The Indian warrior shaves all his head, with the exception of a 
single lock on the crown, which he leaves to assist his conqueror in 
removing the scalp*, the sole memorial of his achievement, which 
the latter can produce. 


1U8 JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER . 

dividual of the party felt relieved from a burden of 
doubt, as the proud and determined, though wild, ex¬ 
pression of the features of the young warrior forced 
itself on their notice. They felt it might be a being 
5 partially benighted in the vale of ignorance, but it could 
not be one who would willingly devote his rich natural 
gifts to the purposes of wanton treachery. The ingenu¬ 
ous Alice gazed at his free air and proud carriage, as she 
would have looked upon some precious relic of the Gre- 
10 cian chisel, to which life had been imparted by the 
intervention of a miracle; while Heyward, though ac¬ 
customed to see the perfection of form which abounds 
among the uncorrupted natives, openly expressed his 
admiration at such an unblemished specimen of the 
15 noblest proportions of man. 

“ I could sleep in peace,” whispered Alice, in reply, 
“with such a fearless and generous looking youth for 
my sentinel. Surely, Duncan, those cruel murders, 
those terrific scenes of torture, of which we read and 
20 hear so much, are never acted in the presence of such 
as he! ” 

“This, certainly, is a rare and brilliant instance of 
those natural qualities in which these peculiar people 
are said to excel,” he answered. “I agree with you, 
25 Alice, in thinking that such a front and eye were formed 
rather to intimidate than to deceive; but let us not prac¬ 
tise a deception upon ourselves, by expecting any other 
exhibition of what we esteem virtue, than according to 
the fashion of a savage. As bright examples of great 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


109 


qualities are but too uncommon among Christians, so are 
they singular and solitary with the Indians ; though, for 
the honor of our common nature, neither are incapable 
of producing them. Let us then hope that this Mohican 
may not disappoint our wishes, and prove, what his looks 
assert him to be, a brave and constant friend.” 

“Now Major Heyward speaks as Major Heyward 
should,” said £Jora; “ who that looks at this creature 
of nature remembers the shade of his skin ? ” 

A short, and apparently an embarrassed, silence suc¬ 
ceeded this characteristic remark, which was interrupted 
by the scout calling to them aloud to enter. 

“ This fire begins to show too bright a flame,” he con¬ 
tinued, as they complied, “and might light the Mingos 
to our undoing. Uncas, drop the blanket and show the 
knaves its dark side. This is not such a supper as a 
major of the Royal Americans has a right to expect, but 
I’ve known stout detachments of the corps glad to eat 
their venison raw, and without a relish, too. Here, you 
see, we have plenty of salt, and can make a quick broil. 
There’s fresh sassafras boughs for the ladies to sit on, 
which may not be as proud as their my-hog-guinea chairs, 
but which sends up a sweeter flavor than the skin of 
any hog can do, be it of Guinea, or be it of any other 
land. Come, friend, don’t be mournful for the colt; 
’twas an innocent thing and had not seen much hard¬ 
ship. Its death will save the creature many a sore back 
and weary foot ! ” 

Uncas did as the other had directed, and when the 


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110 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


voice of Hawkeye ceased, the roar of the cataract 
sounded like the rumbling of distant thunder. 

“ Are we quite safe in this cavern? ” demanded Hey¬ 
ward. “Is there no danger of surprise? A single 
5 armed man at its entrance would hold us at his mercy.” 

A spectral looking figure stalked from out the dark¬ 
ness behind the scout, and seizing a blazing brand, held 
it towards the further extremity of their place of re¬ 
treat. Alice uttered a faint shriek, and even Cora rose 
10 to her feet, as this appalling object moved into the light; 
but a single word from Heyward calmed them, with the 
assurance it was only their attendant, Chingachgook, 
who, lifting another blanket, discovered that the cavern 
had two outlets. Then, holding the brand, he crossed 
15 a deep, narrow chasm in the rocks, which ran at right 
angles with the passage they were in, but which, unlike 
that, was open to the heavens, and entered another cave, 
answering to the description of the first in every essen¬ 
tial particular. 

20 “ Such old foxes as Chingachgook and myself, are not 

often caught in a burrow with one hole,” said Hawkeye, 
laughing; “ you can easily see the cunning of the place 
— the rock is black limestone, which everybody knows 
is soft; it makes no uncomfortable pillow, where brush 
25 and pine wood is scarce; well, the fall was once a few 
yards below us, and I dare to say was, in its time, as 
regular and as handsome a sheet of water as any along 
the Hudson. But old age is a great injury to good 
looks, as these sweet young ladies have yet to l’arn! 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


Ill 


The place is sadly changed. These rocks are full of 
cracks, and in some places, they are softer than at other- 
some, and the water has worked out deep hollows for 
itself, until it has fallen back, ay, some hundred feet, 
breaking here and wearing there, until the falls have 5 
neither shape nor consistency.” 

“ In what part of them are we ? ” asked Heyward. 

“ Why, we are nigh the spot that Providence first 
placed them at, but where, it seems, they were too rebel¬ 
lious to stay. The rock proved softer on each side of 10 
us, and so they left the centre of the river bare and dry, 
first working out these two little holes for us to hide 
in.” 

“ We are then on an island ?” 

“ Ay ! there are the falls on two sides of us, and the 15 
river above and below. If you had daylight, it would 
be worth the trouble to step up on the height of this 
rock and look at the perversity of the water. It falls 
by no rule at all; sometimes it leaps, sometimes it tum¬ 
bles ; there it skips; here it shoots ; in one place ? tis 20 
white as snow, and in another ? tis green as grass; here¬ 
abouts it pitches into deep hollows that rumble and 
quake the ? arth ; and thereaway it ripples and sings like 
a brook, fashioning whirlpools and gullies in the old 
stone, as if ? twas no harder than trodden clay. The 25 
whole design of the river seems disconcerted. First it 
runs smoothly, as if meaning to go down the descent as 
things were ordered; then it angles about and faces the 
shores; nor are there places wanting where it looks 


112 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


backward, as if unwilling to leave the wilderness to 
mingle with the salt! Ay, lady, the fine cobweb-looking 
cloth you wear at your throat is coarse, and like a fish 
net, to little spots I can show you, where the river fab- 
5 ricates all sorts of images, as if, having broke loose from 
order, it would try its hand at everything. And yet 
what does it amount to ? After the water has been suf¬ 
fered to have its will for a time, like a headstrong man, 
it is gathered together by the hand that made it, and a 
10 few rods below you may see it all, flowing on steadily 
towards the sea, as was foreordained from the first foun¬ 
dation of the ’arth ! ” 

While his auditors received a cheering assurance of 
the security of their place of concealment, from this 
15 untutored description of Glenn’s, they were much in¬ 
clined to judge differently from Hawkeye of its wild 
beauties. But they were not in a situation to suffer their 
thoughts to dwell on the charms of natural objects ; and, 
as the scout had not found it necessary to cease his culi- 
20 nary labors while he spoke, unless to point out, with a 
broken fork, the direction of some particularly obnox¬ 
ious point in the rebellious stream, they now suffered 
their attention to be drawn to the necessary, though 
more vulgar consideration of their supper. 

25 The repast, which was greatly aided by the addition 
of a few delicacies that Heyward had the precaution to 
bring with him, when they left their horses, was exceed¬ 
ingly refreshing to the wearied party. Uncas acted as 
attendant to the females, performing all the little offices 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


113 


within his power, with a mixture of dignity and anxious 
grace, that served to amuse Heyward, who well knew 
that it was an utter innovation on the Indian customs, 
which forbid their warriors to descend to any menial 
employment, especially in favor of their women. As 
the rites of hospitality were, however, considered sacred 
among them, this little departure from the dignity of 
manhood excited no audible comment. Had there been 
one there sufficiently disengaged to become a close ob¬ 
server, he might have fancied that the services of the 
young chief were not entirely impartial. That while 
he tendered to Alice the calabash of sweet water and the 
venison in a trencher, neatly carved from the knot of 
the pepperage, with sufficient courtesy, in performing 
the same offices to her sister his dark eye lingered on 
her rich, speaking countenance. Once or twice he was 
compelled to speak, to command the attention of those he 
served. In such cases he made use of English, broken 
and imperfect, but sufficiently intelligible, and which he 
rendered so mild and musical by his 1 deep, guttural 
voice, that it never failed to cause both ladies to look up 
in admiration and astonishment. In the course of these 
civilities a few sentences were exchanged, that served 
to establish the appearance of an amicable intercourse 
between the parties. 

In the meanwhile the gravity of Chingachgook re¬ 
mained immovable. He had seated himself more within 

1 The meaning of Indian words is much governed by the empha¬ 
sis and tones. 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


the circle of light, where the frequent, uneasy glances 
of his guests were better enabled to separate the natural 
expression of his face from the artificial terrors of the 
war-paint. They found a strong resemblance between 
5 father and son, with the difference that might be ex¬ 
pected from age and hardships. The fierceness of his 
countenance now seemed to slumber, and in its place 
was to be seen the quiet, vacant composure which dis- 
tinguishes an Indian warrior, when his faculties are not 
10 required for any of the greater purposes of his exist¬ 
ence. It was, however, easy to be seen, by the occasional 
gleams that shot across his swarthy visage, that it was 
only necessary to arouse his passions in order to give 
full effect to the terrific device which he had adopted 
15 to intimidate his enemies. On the other hand, the quick, 
roving eye of the scout seldom rested. He ate and drank 
with an appetite that no sense of danger could disturb, 
but his vigilance seemed never to desert him. Twenty 
times the calabash or the venison was suspended before 
20 his lips, while his head was turned aside, as though he 
listened to some distant and distrusted sounds — a move¬ 
ment that never failed to recall his guests from regard¬ 
ing the novelties of their situation to a recollection of 
the alarming reasons that had driven them to seek it. 
25 As these frequent pauses were never followed by any 
remark, the momentary uneasiness they created quickly 
passed away and was for a time forgotten. 

“Come, friend,” said Hawkeye, drawing out a keg 
from beneath a cover of leaves, towards the close of the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


115 


repast, and addressing the stranger who sat at his elbow, 
doing great justice to his culinary skill, “ try a little 
spruce; ’twill wash away all thoughts of the colt, and 
quicken the life in your bosom. I drink to our better 
friendship, hoping that a little horseflesh may leave no 5 
heartburnings atween us. How do you name your¬ 
self ? ” 

“ Gamut — David Gamut,” returned the singing-mas¬ 
ter, preparing to wash down his sorrows, in a powerful 
draught of the woodman’s high-flavored and well-laced JO 
compound. 

“ A very good name, and, I dare say, handed down 
from honest forefathers. I’m an admirator of names, 
though the Christian fashions fall far below savage cus¬ 
toms in this particular. The biggest coward I ever knew is 
was called Lyon; and his wife, Patience, would scold 
you out of hearing in less time than a hunted deer would 
run a rod. With an Indian ’tis a matter of conscience; 
what he calls himself, he generally is — not that Chin- 
gachgook, which signifies big sarpent, is really a snake, 20 
big or little; but that he understands the windings 
and turnings of human natur’, and is silent, and strikes 
his enemies when they least expect him. What may be 
your calling ? ” 

“ I am an unworthy instructor in the art of psalmody.” 25 

“ Anan! ” 

“ I teach singing to the youths of the Connecticut 
levy.” 

“ You might be better employed. The young hounds 


116 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


go laughing and singing too much already through the 
woods, when they ought not to breathe louder than a 
fox in his cover. Can you use the smooth bore, or 
handle the rifle ? ” 

5 “ Praised be God, I have never had occasion to meddle 

with murderous implements ! ” 

“ Perhaps you understand the compass, and lay down 
the water courses and mountains of the wilderness on 
paper, in order that they who follow may find places by 
10 their given names ? ” 

“ I practise no such employment.” 

“ You have a pair of legs that might make a long path 
seem short! you journey sometimes, I fancy, with tidings 
for the general.” 

15 “ Never; I follow no other than my own high voca¬ 

tion, which is instruction in sacred music.” 

“ ’Tis a strange calling ! ” muttered Hawkeye, with an 
inward laugh, “ to go through life, like a catbird, mock- 
ing all the ups and downs that may happen to come out 
20 of other men’s throats. Well, friend, I suppose it is 
your gift, and mustn’t be denied any more than if ’twas 
shooting, or some other better inclination. Let us hear 
what you can do in that way; ’twill be a friendly manner 
of saying good-night, for ’tis time these ladies should be 
25 getting strength for a hard and a long push, in the pride 
of the morning, afore the Maquas are stirring.” 

“ With joyful pleasure do I consent,” said David, ad¬ 
justing his iron-rimmed spectacles, and producing his 
beloved little volume, which he immediately tendered to 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


117 


Alice. “ What can be more fitting and consolatory than 
to offer up evening praise after a day of such exceeding 
jeopardy ? ” 

Alice smiled ; but regarding Heyward, she blushed 
and hesitated. 

“ Indulge yourself,” he whispered; “ ought not the 
suggestion of the worthy namesake of the Psalmist to 
have its weight at such a moment ? ” 

Encouraged by his opinion, Alice did what both her 
pious inclinations and her keen relish for gentle sounds 
had before so strongly urged. The book was open at a 
hymn not ill adapted to their situation, and in which the 
poet, no longer goaded by his desire to excel the inspired 
King of Israel, had discovered some chastened and re¬ 
spectable powers. Cora betrayed a disposition to sup¬ 
port her sister, and the sacred song proceeded, after the 
indispensable preliminaries of the pitch-pipe and the tune 
had been duly attended to by the methodical David. 

The air was solemn and slow. At times it rose to the 
fullest compass of the rich voices of the sweet maidens, 
who hung over their little book in holy excitement, and 
again it sank so low that the rushing of the waters ran 
through their melody like a hollow accompaniment. The 
natural taste and true ear of David governed and modi¬ 
fied the sounds to suit their confined cavern, every crev¬ 
ice and cranny of which was filled with the thrilling 
notes of their flexible voices. The Indians riveted their 
eyes on the rocks, and listened with an attention that 
seemed to turn them into stone. But the scout, who had 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


placed his chin in his hand, with an expression of cold 
indifference, gradually suffered his rigid features to relax, 
until, as verse succeeded verse, he felt his iron nature 
subdued, while his recollection was carried back to boy- 
5 hood, when his ears had been accustomed to listen to 
similar sounds of praise in the settlements of the colony. 
His roving eyes began to moisten, and before the hymn 
was ended scalding tears rolled out of fountains that 
had long seemed dry, and followed each other down those 
10 cheeks that had oftener felt the storms of heaven, than 
any testimonials of weakness. The singers were dwell¬ 
ing on one of those low, dying chords, which the ear de¬ 
vours with such greedy rapture, as if conscious that it is 
about to lose them, when a cry that seemed neither hu- 
15 man nor earthly rose in the outward air, penetrating 
not only the recesses of the cavern, but to the inmost 
hearts of all who heard it. It was followed by a still¬ 
ness apparently as deep as if the waters had been checked 
in their furious progress at such a horrid and unusual 
20 interruption. 

“ What is it ? ” murmured Alice, after a few moments 
of terrible suspense. 

“ What is it ? ” repeated Heyward, aloud. 

Neither Hawkeye nor the Indians made any reply. 
?5 They listened, as if expecting the sound would be re¬ 
peated, with a manner that expressed their own aston¬ 
ishment. At length, they spoke together, earnestly, in 
the Delaware language, when Uncas, passing by the 
inner and most concealed aperture, cautiously left the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


119 


cavern. When he had gone, the scout first spoke in 
English. 

“ What it is, or what it is not, none here can tell; 
though two of us have ranged the woods for more than 
thirty years! I did believe there was no cry that In¬ 
dian or beast could make that my ears had not heard j 
but this has proved that I was only a vain and conceited 
mortal.” 

“Was it not, then, the shout the warriors make when 
they wish to intimidate their enemies ? ” asked Cora, who 
stood drawing her veil about her person, with a calmness 
to which her agitated sister was a stranger. 

“No, no; this was bad and shocking, and had a sort 
of unhuman sound; but when you once hear the war- 
whoop, you will never mistake it for anything else! 
Well, Uncas!” speaking in the Delaware to the young 
chief as he re-entered, “ what see you ? do our lights 
shine through the blankets ? ” 

The answer was short and apparently decided, being 
given in the same tongue. 

“There is nothing to be seen without,” continued 
Hawkeye, shaking his head in discontent; “ and our 
hiding-place is still in darkness! Pass into the other 
cave, you that need it, and seek for sleep; we must be 
afoot long before the sun, and make the most of our time 
to get to Edward, while the Mingos are taking their 
morning nap.” 

Cora set the example of compliance, with a steadiness 
that taught the more timid Alice the necessity of obedi- 


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120 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


ence. Before leaving the place, however, she whispered 
a request to Duncan that he would follow. Uncas raised 
the blanket for their passage; and as the sisters turned 
to thank him for this act of attention, they saw the scout 
5 seated again before the dying embers, with his face rest¬ 
ing on his hands, in a manner which showed how deeply 
he brooded on the unaccountable interruption which had 
broken up their evening devotions. 

Heyward took with him a blazing knot, which threw 
10 a dim light through the narrow vista of their new apart¬ 
ment. Placing it in a favorable position, he joined the 
females, who now found themselves alone with him, for 
the first time since they had left the friendly ramparts 
of Fort Edward. 

15 “ Leave us not, Duncan,” said Alice ; “ we cannot 

sleep in such a place as this, with that horrid cry still 
ringing in our ears ! ” 

“ First let us examine into the security of your for¬ 
tress,” he answered, “ and then we will speak of rest.” 
20 He approached the farther end of the cavern, to an 
outlet, which, like the others, was concealed by blankets, 
and removing the thick screen, breathed the fresh and 
reviving air from the cataract. One arm of the river 
flowed through a deep, narrow ravine, which its current 
25 had worn in the soft rock directly beneath his feet, 
forming an effectual defence, as he believed, against any 
danger from that quarter; the water, a few rods above 
them, plunging, glancing, and sweeping along, in its most 
violent and broken manner. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


121 


“ Nature has made an impenetrable barrier on this 
side,” he continued, pointing down the perpendicular 
declivity into the dark current, before he dropped the 
blanket ; and as you know that good men and true are 
on guard in front, I see no reason why the advice of our 5 
honest host should be disregarded. I am certain Cora 
will join me in saying that sleep is necessary to you 
both.” 

“ Cora may submit to the justice of your opinion, 
though she cannot put it in practice,” returned the elder 10 
Sister, who had placed herself by the side of Alice on a 
couch of sassafras; “ there would be other causes to 
chase away sleep, though we had been spared the shock 
of this mysterious noise. Ask yourself, Heyward, can 
daughters forget the anxiety a father must endure, whose 15 
children lodge, he knows not where or how, in such a 
wilderness and in the midst of so many perils ? ” 

“ He is a soldier, and knows how to estimate the 
chances of the woods.” 

“ He is a father, and cannot deny his nature.” 20 

“ How kind has he ever been to all my follies, how 
tender and indulgent to all my wishes ! ” sobbed Alice. 
“We have been selfish, sister, in urging our visit at such 
hazard ! ” 

“ I may have been rash in pressing his consent in a 25 
moment of so much embarrassment, but I would have 
proved to him that, however others might neglect him 
in his strait, his children were faithful! ” 

“When he heard of your arrival at Edward,” said 


122 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Heyward, kindly, “ there was a powerful struggle in his 
bosom between fear and love ; though the latter, height¬ 
ened, if possible, by so long a separation, quickly pre¬ 
vailed. ‘ It is the spirit of my noble-minded Cora that 
5 leads them, Duncan/ he said, ‘and I will not balk it. 
Would to God that he who holds the honor of our royal 
master in his guardianship would show but half her 
firmness/ ” 

“ And did he not speak of me, Heyward ? 99 demanded 
10 Alice, with jealous affection. “Surely, he forgot not 
altogether his little Elsie ! ” 

“ That were impossible/’ returned the young man; 
“he called you by a thousand endearing epithets, that 
I may not presume to use, but to the justice of which I 
15 can warmly testify. Once, indeed, he said — 99 

Duncan ceased speaking; for while his eyes were riv¬ 
eted on those of Alice, who had turned towards him with 
the eagerness of filial affection to catch his words, the 
same strong, horrid cry, as before, filled the air and 
20 rendered him mute. A long, breathless silence succeeded, 
during which, each looked at the others in fearful ex¬ 
pectation of hearing the sound repeated. At length, the 
blanket was slowly raised, and the scout stood in the 
aperture with a countenance whose firmness evidently 
25 began to give way, before a mystery that seemed to 
threaten some unknown danger, against which all his 
cunning and experience might prove of no avail. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


123 


CHAPTER VII. 

They do not sleep. 

On yonder cliffs, a grisly hand, 

I see them sit.—G ray, The Bard. 

“ ’Twould be neglecting a warning that is given for 
our good to lie hid any longer,” said Hawkeye, “ when 
such sounds are raised in the forest! These gentle ones 
may keep close, but the Mohicans and I will watch upon 
the rock, where I suppose a major of the 60th would 5 
wish to keep us company.” 

“ Is then our danger so pressing ? ” asked Cora. 

“He who makes strange sounds and gives them out 
for man’s information, alone knows our danger. I 
should think myself wicked unto rebellion against his 10 
will, was I to burrow with such warnings in the air ! 
Even the weak soul who passes his days in singing is 
stirred by the cry, and, as he says, is ‘ ready to go forth 
to the battle.’ If ’twere only a battle, it would be a 
thing understood by us all and easily managed ; but 115 
have heard that when such shrieks are atween heaven 
and ’arth, it betokens another sort of warfare ! ” 

“ If all our reasons for fear, my friend, are confined 
to such as proceed from supernatural causes, we have 


124 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


but little occasion to be alarmed,” continued the undis¬ 
turbed Cora ; “ are you certain that our enemies have not 
invented some new and ingenious method to strike us 
with terror, that their conquest may become more easy ? ” 
5 “ Lady,” returned the scout, solemnly, “ I have lis¬ 

tened to all the sounds of the woods for thirty years, as 
a man will listen, whose life and death depend so often 
on the quickness of his ears. There is no whine of the 
panther; no whistle of the catbird ; nor any invention of 
10 the devilish Mingos, that can cheat me. I have heard 
the forest moan like mortal men in their affliction ; often 
and again have I listened to the wind playing its music 
in the branches of the girdled trees; and I have heard 
the- lightning cracking in the air, like the snapping of 
15 blazing brush, as it spitted forth sparks and forked 
flames; but never have I thought that I heard more 
than the pleasure of him, who sported with the things 
of his hand. But neither the Mohicans nor I, who am 
a white man without a cross, can explain the cry just 
20 heard. We, therefore, believe it is a sign given for our 
good.” 

“ It is extraordinary! ” exclaimed Heyward, taking 
his pistols from the place where he had laid them, on 
entering; “ be it a sign of peace or a signal of war, it 
25 must be looked to. Lead the way, my friend; I fol¬ 
low.” 

On issuing from their place of confinement the whole 
party instantly experienced a grateful renovation of 
spirits, by exchanging the pent air of the hiding-place 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


125 


for the cool and invigorating atmosphere, which played 
around the whirlpools and pitches of the cataract. A 
heavy evening breeze swept along the surface of the 
river, and seemed to drive the roar of the falls into the 
recesses of their own caverns, whence it issued heavily 
and constant, like thunder rumbling beyond the distant 
hills. The moon had risen, and its light was already 
glancing here and there on the waters above them ; but 
the extremity of the rock where they stood still lay in 
shadow. With the exception of the sounds produced 
by the rushing waters, and an occasional breathing of 
the air, as it murmured past them in fitful currents, the 
scene was as still as night and solitude could make it. 
In vain were the eyes of each individual bent along the 
opposite shores, in quest of some signs of life, that might 
explain the nature of the interruption they had heard. 
Their anxious and eager looks were baffled by the de¬ 
ceptive light, or rested only on naked rocks or straight 
and immovable trees. 

“ Here is nothing to be seen but the gloom and quiet 
of a lovely evening,” whispered Duncan; “ how much 
we should prize such a scene, and all this breathing soli¬ 
tude, at any other moment, Cora. Fancy yourselves in 
security, and what now, perhaps, increases your terror, 
may be made conducive to enjoyment— ” 

i( Listen ! ” interrupted Alice. 

The caution was unnecessary. Once more the same 
sound arose, as if from the bed of the river, and having 
broken out of the narrow bounds of the cliffs, was heard 


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126 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


undulating through the forest in distant and dying 
cadences. 

“ Can any here give a name to such a cry ? ” de¬ 
manded Hawkeye, when the last echo was lost in the 
5 woods ; “ if so, let him speak; for myself, I judge it not 
to belong to ’arth ! ” 

“ Here, then, is one who can undeceive you,” said 
Duncan; “ I know the sound full well, for often have I 
heard it on the field of battle, and in situations which 
10 are frequent in a soldier’s life. ’Tis the horrid shriek 
that a horse will give in his agony; oftener drawn from 
him in pain, though sometimes in terror. My charger is 
either a prey to the beasts of the forest, or he sees his 
danger without the power to avoid it. The sound might 
15 deceive me in the cavern, but in the open air I know it 
too well to be wrong.” 

The scout and his companions listened to this simple 
explanation with the interest of men, who imbibe new 
ideas at the same time that they get rid of old ones, 
20 which had proved disagreeable inmates. The two latter 
uttered their usual and expressive exclamation, “ Hugh! ” 
as the truth first glanced upon their minds, while the 
former, after a short musing pause, took on himself to 
reply. 

25 “ I cannot deny your words,” he said; “ for I am lit¬ 

tle skilled in horses, though born where they abound. 
The wolves must be hovering above their heads on the 
bank, and the timorsome creatures are calling on man 
for help, in the best manner they are able. Uncas” — 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


127 


he spoke in Delaware — “Uncas, drop down in the canoe, 
and whirl a brand among the pack ; or fear may do what 
the wolves can’t get at to perform, and leave ns without 
horses in the morning, when we shall have so much need 
to journey swiftly.” 

The young native had already descended to the water 
to comply, when a long howl was raised on the edge of 
the river, and was borne swiftly off into the depths of the 
forest, as though the beasts, of their own accord, were 
abandoning their prey in sudden terror. Uncas, with 
instinctive quickness, receded, and the three foresters 
held another of their low, earnest conferences. 

“ We have been like hunters who have lost the points 
of the heavens, and from whom the sun has been hid for 
days,” said Hawkeye, turning away from his compan¬ 
ions j “ now we begin again to know the signs of our 
course, and the paths are cleared from briers. Seat 
yourselves in the shade, which the moon throws from 
yonder beach — ’tis thicker than that of the pines — and 
let us wait for that which the Lord may choose to send 
next. Let all your conversation be in whispers; though 
it would be better, and perhaps, in the end, wiser, if each 
one held discourse with his own thoughts for a time.” 

The manner of the scout was seriously impressive, 
though no longer distinguished by any signs of unmanly 
apprehension. It was evident, that his momentary weak¬ 
ness had vanished with the explanation of a mystery, 
which his own experience had not served to fathom; and, 
though he now felt all the realities of their actual condi- 


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128 


JAMES FENIMOEE COOPER. 


tion, that he was prepared to meet them with the energy 
of his hardy nature. This feeling seemed also com¬ 
mon to the natives, who placed themselves in positions 
which commanded a full view of both shores, while their 
5 own persons were effectually concealed from observation. 
In such circumstances, common prudence dictated that 
Heyward and his companions should imitate a caution 
that proceeded from so intelligent a source. The young 
man drew a pile of the sassafras from the cave, and plac- 
10 ing it in the chasm which separated the two caverns, it 
was occupied by the sisters, who were thus protected by 
the rocks from any missiles, while their anxiety was re¬ 
lieved by the assurance that no danger could approach 
without a warning. Heyward himself was posted at 
15 hand, so near that he might communicate with his com¬ 
panions without raising his voice to a dangerous ele¬ 
vation ; while David, in imitation of the woodsmen, 
bestowed his person in such a manner among the fissures 
of the rocks, that his ungainly limbs were no longer 
20 offensive to the eye. 

In this manner hours passed by without further in¬ 
terruption. The moon reached the zenith and shed its 
mild light perpendicularly on the lovely sight of the sis¬ 
ters, slumbering peacefully in each other’s arms. Dun= 
25 can cast the wide shawl of Cora before a spectacle he so 
much loved to contemplate, and then suffered his own 
head to seek a pillow on the rock. David began to utter 
sounds that would have shocked his delicate organs in 
more wakeful moments; in short, all but Hawkeye and 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


129 


the Mohicans lost every idea of consciousness in uncon¬ 
trollable drowsiness. But the watchfulness of these 
vigilant protectors, neither tired nor slumbered. Im¬ 
movable as that rock, of which each appeared to form a 
part, they lay, with their eyes roving without intermis- 5 
sion along the dark margin of trees that bounded the 
adjacent shores of the narrow stream. Not a sound es¬ 
caped them; the most subtle examination could not have 
told they breathed. It was evident that this excess of 
caution proceeded from an experience, that no subtlety 10 
on the part of their enemies could deceive. It was, how¬ 
ever continued without any apparent consequences, until 
the moon had set, and a pale streak above the tree-tops, 
at a bend of the river, a little below, announced the 
approach of day. 15 

Then, for the first time, Hawkeye was seen to stir. 
He crawled along the rock and shook Duncan from his 
heavy slumbers. 

“Now is the time to journey,” he whispered; “awake 
the gentle ones, and be ready to get into the canoe when 20 
I bring it to the landing-place.’’ 

“ Have you had a quiet night ? ” said Heyward ; “ for 
myself, I believe sleep has gotten the better of my vigi¬ 
lance.” 

“ All is yet still as midnight. Be silent, but be quick.” 25 

By this time Duncan was thoroughly awake, and he 
immediately lifted the shawl from the sleeping fair ones. 
The motion caused Cora to raise her hand as if to re¬ 
pulse him, while Alice murmured, in her soft, gentle 


130 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


voice, “No, no, dear father, we were not deserted; Dun¬ 
can was with us.” 

“Yes, sweet innocence,” whispered the youth; “Dun¬ 
can is here, and while life continues or danger remains, 
5 he will never quit thee. Cora! Alice ! awake! The 
hour has come to move.” 

A loud shriek from the younger of the sisters, and 
the form of the other standing upright before him in 
bewildered horror, was the unexpected answer he re- 
10 ceived. While the words were still on the lips of Hey¬ 
ward, there had arisen such a tumult of yells and cries 
as served to drive the swift currents of his own youthful 
blood back from its bounding course into the fountains 
of his heart. It seemed, for near a minute, as if the 
15 demons of hell had possessed themselves of the air about 
them, and were venting their savage humors in barba¬ 
rous sounds. The cries came from no particular direc¬ 
tion, though it was evident they filled the woods, and, 
as the appalled listeners easily imagined, the caverns of 
20 the falls, the rocks, the bed of the river, and the upper 
air. David raised his tall person in the midst of the 
infernal din, with a hand on either ear, exclaiming, — 

“ Whence comes this discord ? Has hell broke loose, 
that man should utter sounds like these ? ” 

25 The bright flashes, and the quick reports of a dozen 
rifles, from the opposite banks of the stream, followed 
this incautious exposure of his person, and left the un¬ 
fortunate singing-master senseless on that rock where 
he had been so long slumbering. The Mohicans boldly 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 131 

sent back the intimidating yell of their enemies, who 
raised a shout of savage triumph at the fall of Gamut. 
The flash of rifles was then quick and close between 
them, but either party was too well skilled to leave even 
a limb exposed to the hostile aim. Duncan listened with 
intense anxiety for the strokes of the paddle, believing 
that flight was now their only refuge. The river glanced 
by with its ordinary velocity, but the canoe was nowhere 
to be seen on its dark waters. He had just fancied they 
were cruelly deserted by the scout, as a stream of flame 
issued from the rock beneath him, and a fierce yell, 
blended with a shriek of agony, announced that the mes¬ 
senger of death, sent from the fatal weapon of Hawkeye, 
had found a victim. At this slight repulse the assail¬ 
ants instantly withdrew, and gradually the place became 
still as before the sudden tumult. 

Duncan seized the favorable moment to spring to the 
body of Gamut, which he bore within the shelter of the 
narrow chasm that protected the sisters. In another 
minute the whole party was collected in this spot of 
comparative safety. 

“The poor fellow has saved his scalp,” said Hawk- 
eye, coolly passing his hand over the head of David; 
“ but he is a proof that a man may be born with too 
long a tongue! ? Twas downright madness to show six 
feet of flesh and blood, and on a naked rock, to the rag¬ 
ing savages; and I only wonder he has escaped with 
life.” 

“ Is he not dead ? ” demanded Cora, in a voice whose 


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JAMES FEJS1M0RE COOPER. 


husky tones showed how powerfully natural horror 
struggled with her assumed firmness. “ Can we do 
aught to assist the wretched man ?'” 

“No, no! the life is in his heart yet, and after he has 
5 slept a while he will come to himself, and be a wiser 
man for it, till the hour of his real time shall come,” 
returned Hawkeye, casting another oblique glance at 
the insensible body, while he filled his charger with 
admirable nicety. “ Carry him in, Uncas, and lay him 
10 on the sassafras. The longer his nap lasts the better it 
will be for him ; as I doubt whether he can find a proper 
cover for such a shape on these rocks; and singing won’t 
do any good with the Iroquois.” 

“You believe, then, the attack will be renewed?” 
15 asked Heyward. 

“ Do I expect a hungry wolf will satisfy his craving 
with a mouthful ? They have lost a man, and ’tis their 
fashion, when they meet a loss and fail in the surprise, 
to fall back; but we shall have them on again, with new 
20 expedients to circumvent us and master our scalps. 
Our main hope,” he continued, raising his rugged coun¬ 
tenance, across which a shade of anxiety just then passed 
like a darkening cloud, “ will be to keep the rock until 
Munro can send a party to our help. God send it may 
25 be soon, and under a leader that knows the Indian cus¬ 
toms.” 

“You hear our probable fortunes, Cora,” said Duncan; 
“and you know we have everything to hope from the 
anxiety and experience of your father. Come, then. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


133 


with Alice into this cavern, where you, at least, will be 
safe from the murderous rifles of our enemies, and where 
you may bestow a care suited to your gentle natures, on 
our unfortunate comrade.” 

The sisters followed him into the outer cave, where 
David was beginning, by his sighs, to give symptoms of 
returning consciousness; and, then, commending the 
wounded man to their attention, he immediately pre¬ 
pared to leave them. 

“ Duncan ! ” said the tremulous voice of Cora, when he 
had reached the mouth of the cavern. He turned, and 
beheld the speaker, whose color had changed to a deadly 
paleness, and whose lip quivered, gazing after him with 
an expression of interest which immediately recalled him 
to her side. “ Remember, Duncan, how necessary your 
safety is to our own — how you bear a father’s sacred 
trust — how much depends on your discretion and care 
•—in short,” she added, while the tell-tale blood stole 
over her features, crimsoning her very temples, “ how 
very deservedly dear you are to all of the name of 
Munro.” 

“ If anything could add to my own base love of life,” 
said Heyward, suffering his unconscious eyes to wander 
to the youthful form of the silent Alice, “it would be 
so kind an assurance. As major of the 60th, our honest 
host will tell you I must take my share of the fray; but 
our task will be easy; it is merely to keep these blood¬ 
hounds at bay for a few hours.” 

Without waiting for reply, he tore himself from the 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


presence of the sisters and joined the scout and his com¬ 
panions, who still lay within the protection of the little 
chasm between the two caves. 

“I tell you, Uncas,” said the former, as Heyward 
5 joined them, “you are wasteful of your powder, and the 
kick of the rifle disconcerts your aim. Little powder, 
light lead, and a long arm, seldom fail of bringing the 
death screech from a Mingo. At least, such has been 
my experience with the creatures. Come, friends; let 
10 us to our covers, for no man can tell when or where a 
Maqua will strike his blow.” 

The Indians silently repaired to their appointed sta¬ 
tions, which were fissures in the rocks, whence they could 
command the approaches to the foot of the falls. In the 
15 centre of the little island a few short and stunted pines 
had found root, forming a thicket, into which Hawkeye 
darted with the swiftness of a deer, followed by the ac¬ 
tive Duncan. Here they secured themselves, as well as 
circumstances would permit, among the shrubs and frag- 
20 ments of stone that were scattered about the place. 
Above them was a bare, rounded rock, on each side of 
which the water played its gambols, and plunged into 
the abysses beneath, in the manner already describedc 
As the day had now dawmed, the opposite shores no 
25 longer presented a confused outline, but they were able 
to look into the woods and distinguish objects beneath 
the dark canopy of gloomy pines and bushes. 

A long and anxious watch succeeded, but without any 
further evidences of a renewed attack, and Duncan be-' 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


135 


gan to hope that their fire had proved more fatal than 
was supposed, and that their enemies had been effectually 
repulsed. When he ventured to utter this impression 
to his companion, it was met by Hawkeye with an in¬ 


credulous shake of the head. 


5 


“You know not the nature of a Maqua, if you think 
he is so easily beaten back without a scalp. If there was 
one of the imps yelling this morning, there were forty, 
and they know our number and quality too well to give 
up the chase so soon. Hist! look into the water above, 10 
just where it breaks over the rocks. I am no mortal, if 
the risky devils haven’t swam down upon the very pitch, 
and as bad luck would have it, they have hit the head of 
the island ! Hist! man, keep close ! or the hair will be 
off your crown in the turning of a knife !” 15 

Heyward lifted his head from the cover, and beheld 
what he justly considered a prodigy of rashness and skill. 
The river had worn away the edge of the soft rock in 
such a manner as to render its first pitch less abrupt and 
perpendicular than is usual at waterfalls. With no 20 
other guide than the ripple of the stream where it met 
the head of the island, a party of their insatiable foes 
had ventured into the current ancL swum down upon this 
point, knowing the ready access it would give, if success¬ 
ful, to their intended victims. As Hawkeye ceased 25 
speaking, four human heads could be seen peering above 
a few logs of drift wood, that had lodged on these naked 
rocks, and which had probably suggested the idea of the 
practicability of the hazardous undertaking. At the next 





136 


JAMES FEN1M0BE COOPER . 


moment a fifth form was seen floating over the green 
edge of the fall, a little from the line of the island. The 
savage struggled powerfully to gain the point of safety, 
and favored by the glancing water,-he was already 
5 stretching forth an arm to meet the grasp of his compan¬ 
ions, when he shot away again with the whirling current, 
appeared to rise into the air with uplifted arms and 
starting eye-balls, and then fell with a sullen plunge into 
that deep and yawning abyss over which he hovered. A 
10 single wild, despairing shriek rose from the cavern, and 
all was hushed again as the grave. 

The first generous impulse of Duncan was to rush to 
the rescue of the hapless wretch, but he felt himself 
bound to the spot, by the iron grasp of the immovable 
15 scout. 

“ Would ye bring certain death upon us by telling the 
Mingos where we lie ? ” demanded Hawkeye sternly; 
“’tis a charge of powder saved, and ammunition is as 
precious now as breath to a worried deer. Freshen the 
20 priming of your pistols — the mist of the falls is apt to 
dampen the brimstone — and stand firm for a close strug¬ 
gle, while I fire on their rush.” 

He placed his finger in his mouth and drew a long, 
shrill whistle, which was answered from the rocks below, 
25 that were guarded by the Mohicans. Duncan caught 
glimpses of heads above the scattered drift wood, as this 
signal rose on the air, but they disappeared again as sud¬ 
denly as they had glanced upon his sight. A low, rus¬ 
tling sound, next drew his attention behind him, and 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


137 


turning his head, he beheld Uncas within a few feet, 
creeping to his side. Hawkeye spoke to him in Dela¬ 
ware, when the young chief took his position with singu¬ 
lar caution and undisturbed coolness. To Heyward this 
was a moment of feverish and impatient suspense; s 
though the scout saw fit to select it as a fit occasion to 
read a lecture to his more youthful associates, on the art 
of using firearms with discretion. 

“ Of all we’pons,” he commenced, “ the long barrelled, 
true grooved, soft metalled rifle, is the most dangerous 10 
in skilful hands, though it wants a strong arm, a quick 
eye, and great judgment in charging, to put forth all its 
beauties. The gunsmiths can have but little insight into 
their trade, when they make their fowling-pieces and 
short horsemen’s — ” 15 

He was interrupted by the low, but expressive “ Hugh ” 
of Uncas. 

“ I see them, boy, I see them ! ” continued Hawkeye; 
u they are gathering for their rush, or they would keep 
their dingy backs below the logs. Well, let them,” he 20 
added, examining his flint, “ the leading man certainly 
comes on to his death, though it should be Montcalm 
himself! ” 

At that moment the woods were filled with another 
burst of cries, and at the signal four savages sprang from 25 
the cover of the drift wood. Heyward felt a burning 
desire to rush forward to meet them, so intense was the 
delirious anxiety of the moment; but he was restrained 
by the deliberate examples of the scout and Uncas. 


138 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


When their foes, who leaped over the black rocks that 
divided them, with long bounds, uttering the wildest 
yells, were within a few rods, the rifle of Hawkeye slowly 
rose among the shrubs and poured out its fatal contents. 
5 The foremost Indian bounded like a stricken deer and 
fell headlong among the clefts of the island. 

“Now, Uncas!” cried the scout, drawing his long 
knife, while his quick eyes began to flash with ardor, 
“ take the last of the screeching imps; of the other two 
10 we are sartain ! ” 

He was obeyed; and but two enemies remained to be 
overcome. Heyward had given one of his pistols to 
Hawkeye, and together they rushed down a little de¬ 
clivity towards their foes ; they discharged their weapons 
15 at the same instant, and equally without success. 

“ I know’d it! and I said it! ” muttered the scout, 
whirling the despised little implement over the falls, 
with bitter disdain. “ Come on, ye bloody minded hell¬ 
hounds ! ye meet a man without a cross! ” 

20 The words were barely uttered, when he encountered 
a savage of gigantic stature and of the fiercest mien. 
At the same moment Duncan found himself engaged 
with the other in a similar contest of hand to hand. 
With ready skill Hawkeye and his antagonist each 
25 grasped that uplifted arm of the other, which held the 
dangerous knife. For near a minute, they stood looking 
one another in the eye, and gradually exerting the power 
of their muscles for the mastery. At length the tough¬ 
ened sinews of the white man prevailed over the less 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


139 


practised limbs of the native. The arm of the latter 
slowly gave way before the increasing force of the scout, 
who, suddenly wresting his armed hand from the grasp 
of his foe, drove the sharp weapon through his naked 
bosom to the heart. In the meantime, Heyward had 5 
been pressed in a more deadly struggle. His slight 
sword was snapped in the first encounter. As he was 
destitute of any other means of defence, his safety now 
depended entirely on bodily strength and resolution. 
Though deficient in neither of these qualities, he had 10 
met an enemy every way his equal. Happily, he soon 
succeeded in disarming his adversary, whose knife fell 
on the rock at their feet, and from this moment it be¬ 
came a fierce struggle who should cast the other over 
the dizzy height into a neighboring cavern of the falls. 15 
Every successive struggle brought them nearer to the 
verge, where Duncan perceived the final and conquering 
effort must be made. Each of the combatants threw all 
his energies into that effort, and the result was that both 
tottered on the brink of the precipice. Heyward felt 20 
the grasp of the other at his throat, and saw the grim 
smile the savage gave, under the revengeful hope that 
he hurried his enemy to a fate similar to his own, as he 
felt his body slowly yielding to a resistless power; and 
the young man experienced the passing agony of such a 25 
moment in all its horrors. At that instant of extreme 
danger, a dark hand and glancing knife appeared before 
him ; the Indian released his hold, as the blood flowed 
freely from around the severed tendons of the wrist; 



140 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


and while Duncan was drawn backward by the saving 
arm of Uncas, his charmed eyes were still riveted on 
the fierce and disappointed countenance of his foe, who 
fell sullenly and disappointed down the irrecoverable 
5 precipice. 

“ To cover ! to cover! ” cried Hawkeye, who just then 
had despatched his enemy; “ to cover, for your lives! 
the work is but half ended! ” 

The young Mohican gave a loud shout of triumph, and 
10 followed by Duncan, he glided up the acclivity they had 
descended to the combat, and sought the friendly shelter 
of the rocks and shrubs. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


141 


CHAPTER VIII. 

They linger yet, 

Avengers of their native land. — Gray, The Bard . 

The warning call of the scout was not uttered without 
occasion. During the occurrence of the deadly encounter 
just related, the roar of the falls was unbroken by any 
human sound whatever. It would seem that interest in 
the result had kept the natives on the opposite shores 5 
in breathless suspense, while the quick evolutions and 
swift changes in the positions of the combatants effectu¬ 
ally prevented a fire that might prove dangerous alike to 
friend and enemy. But the moment the struggle was 
decided, a yell arose as fierce and savage as wild and re- 1C 
vengeful passions could throw into the air. It was fol¬ 
lowed by the swift flashes of the rifles, which sent their 
leaden messengers across the rock in volleys, as though 
the assailants would pour out their impotent fury on the 
insensible scene of the fatal contest. 15 

A steady, although deliberate, return was made from 
the rifle of Chingachgook, who had maintained his post 
throughout the fray with unmoved resolution. When the 
triumphant shout of Uncas was borne to his ears, the 
gratified father had raised his voice in a single respon- 20 


14^ JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 

sive cry, after which his busy piece alone proved that 
he still guarded his pass with unwearied diligence. In 
this manner many minutes flew by with the swiftness of 
thought; the rifles of the assailants speaking, at times, 
5 in rattling volleys, and at others, in occasional, scattering 
shots. Though the rock, the trees, and the shrubs were 
cut and torn in a hundred places around the besieged, 
their cover was so close and so rigidly maintained, that, 
as yet, David had been the only sufferer in their little 
10 band. 

“Let them burn their powder,” said the deliberate 
scout, while bullet after bullet whizzed by the place 
where he securely lay, “ there will be a fine gathering 
of lead when it is over, and I fancy the imps will tire 
15 of the sport, afore these old stones cry out for mercy! 
Uncas, boy, you waste the kernels by overcharging; and 
a kicking rifle never carries a true bullet. I told you to 
take that loping miscreant under the line of white paint; 
now, if your bullet went a hair’s breadth, it went two 
20 inches above it. The life lies low in a Mingo, and hu¬ 
manity teaches us to make a quick end of the sar- 
pents.” 

A quiet smile lighted the haughty features of the 
young Mohican, betraying his knowledge of the English 
25 language, as well as of the other’s meaning; but he suf¬ 
fered it to pass away without vindication or reply. 

“ I cannot permit you to accuse Uncas of want of judg¬ 
ment or of skill,” said Duncan ; “ he saved my life in 
the coolest and readiest manner, and he has made a 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


143 


friend who never will require to be reminded of the 
debt he owes.” 

Uncas partly raised his body, and offered his hand to 
the grasp of Heyward. During this act of friendship 
the two young men exchanged looks of intelligence, jj 
which caused Duncan to forget the character and con¬ 
dition of his wild associate. In the meanwhile Hawk- 
eye, who looked on this burst of youthful feeling with 
a cool but kind regard, made the following reply : 

“ Life is an obligation which friends often owe each KQ 
other in the wilderness. I dare say I may have served 
Uncas some such turn myself before now ; and I very 
well remember, that he has stood between me and death 
five different times : three times from the Mingos, once 
in crossing Horican, and — ” 15 

“ That bullet was better aimed than common ! ” ex¬ 
claimed Duncan, involuntarily shrinking from a shot 
which struck the rock at his side with a smart re¬ 
bound. 

Hawkeye laid his hand on the shapeless metal, and 20 
shook his head, as he examined it, saying, “ Falling lead 
is never flattened ! had it come from the clouds this 
might have happened ! ” 

But the rifle of Uncas was deliberately raised toward 
the heavens, directing the eyes of his companions to a 25 
point where the mystery was immediately explained. 

A ragged oak grew on the right bank of the river, nearly 
opposite to their position, which, seeking the freedom of 
the open space, had inclined so far forward that its 


144 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


upper branches overhung that arm of the stream which 
flowed nearest to its own shore. Among the topmost 
leaves, which scantily concealed the gnarled and stunted 
limbs, a savage was nestled, partly concealed by the 
5 trunk of the tree, and partly exposed, as though looking 
down upon them, to ascertain the effect produced by his 
treacherous aim. 

“ These devils will scale heaven to circumvent us to 
our ruin,” said Hawkeye; “ keep him in play, boy, 
10 until I can bring ‘ Kill-deer* to bear, when we will try 
his metal on each side of the tree at once.** 

Uncas delayed his fire until the scout uttered the 
word. The rifles flashed, the leaves and bark of the 
oak flew into the air and were scattered by the wind, 
15 but the Indian answered their assault by a taunting 
laugh, sending down upon them another bullet in re¬ 
turn, that struck the cap of Hawkeye from his head. 
Once more the savage yells burst out of the woods, and 
the leaden hail whistled above the heads of the besieged, 
20 as if to confine them to a place where they might be¬ 
come easy victims to the enterprise of the warrior who 
had mounted the tree. 

“ This must be looked to ! 99 said the scout, glancing 
about him with an anxious eye. “ Uncas, call up your 
25 father; we have need of all our we’pons to bring the 
cunning varment from his roost.” 

The signal was instantly given; and before Hawk- 
eye had reloaded his rifle they were joined by Chin- 
gachgook. When his son pointed out to the experienced 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


145 


warrior the situation of their dangerous enemy, the 
usual exclamatory “ Hugh ! ” burst from his lips ; after 
which, no further expression of surprise or alarm was 
suffered to escape from him. Hawkeye and the Mohi¬ 
cans conversed earnestly together in Delaware for a few 
moments, when each quietly took his post, in order to 
execute the plan they had speedily devised. 

The warrior in the oak had maintained a quick, though 
ineffectual, fire from the moment of his discovery. But 
his aim was interrupted by the vigilance of his enemies, 
whose rifles instantaneously bore on any part of his 
person that was left exposed. Still, his bullets fell in 
the centre of the crouching party. The clothes of Hey¬ 
ward, which rendered him peculiarly conspicuous, were 
repeatedly cut, and once blood was drawn from a slight 
wound in his arm. 

At length, emboldened by the long and patient watch¬ 
fulness of his enemies, the Huron attempted a better and 
more fatal aim. The quick eyes of the Mohicans caught 
the dark line of his lower limbs incautiously exposed 
through the thin foliage, a few inches from the trunk 
of the tree. Their rifles made a common report, when, 
sinking on his wounded limb, part of the body of the 
savage came into view. Swift as thought Hawkeye 
seized the advantage and discharged his fatal weapon 
into the top of the oak. The leaves were unusually agi¬ 
tated, the dangerous rifle fell from its commanding ele¬ 
vation, and after a few moments of vain struggling, the 
form of the savage was seen swinging in the wind, while 


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15 

20 

25 


146 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER . 




he grasped a ragged and naked branch of the tree with 
hands clinched in desperation. 

“ Give him, in pity give him, the contents of another 
rifle! ” cried Duncan, turning away his eyes in horror 
5 from the spectacle of a fellow-creature in such awful 
jeopardy. 

“Not a karnel ! ” exclaimed the obdurate Hawkeye; 
“his death is certain, and we have no powder to spare, 
/for Indian fights sometimes last for days; ? tis their 
10 scalps or ours ! — and God, who made us, has put into our 
natures the craving to keep the skin on the head ! ” 

Against this stern and unyielding morality, supported 
as it was by such visible policy, there was no appeal. 
From that moment the yells in the forest once more 
15 ceased, the fire was suffered to decline, and all eyes, 
those of friends as well as enemies, became fixed on the 
hopeless condition of the wretch, who was dangling be¬ 
tween heaven and earth. The body yielded to the cur¬ 
rents of air, and though no murmur or groan escaped the 
20 victim, there were instants when he grimly faced his 
foes, and the anguish of cold despair might be traced, 
through the intervening distance, in possession of his 
swarthy lineaments. Three several times the scout 
raised his piece in mercy, and as often, prudence getting 
25 the better of his intention, it was again silently lowered. 
At length one hand of the Huron lost its hold and 
dropped exhausted to his side. A desperate and fruit¬ 
less struggle to recover the branch succeeded, and then 
the savage was seen for a fleeting instant grasping 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


147 


wildly at the empty air. The lightning is not quicker 
than was the flame from the rifle of Hawkeye; the 
limbs of the victim trembled and contracted, the head 
fell to the bosom, and the body parted the foaming waters 
like lead, when the element closed above it in its cease¬ 
less velocity, and every vestige of the unhappy Huron 
was lost forever. 

No shout of triumph succeeded this important advan¬ 
tage, but even the Mohicans gazed at each other in silent 
horror. A single yell burst from the woods, and all was 
again still. Hawkeye, who alone appeared to reason on 
the occasion, shook his head at his own momentary 
weakness, even uttering his self-disapprobation aloud. 

u ’Twas the last charge in my horn and the last bullet 
in my pouch, and 7 twas the act of a boy! ” he said; 
u what mattered it whether he struck the rock living or 
dead! feeling would soon be over. IJncas, lad, go down 
to the canoe, and bring up the big horn; it is all the 
powder we have left, and we shall need it to the last 
grain, or I am ignorant of the Mingo nature.” 

The young Mohican complied, leaving the scout turn¬ 
ing over the useless contents of his pouch, and shaking 
the empty horn with renewed discontent. From this 
unsatisfactory examination, however, he was soon called 
by a loud and piercing exclamation from Uncas, that 
sounded even to the unpractised ears of Duncan, as the 
signal of some new and unexpected calamity. Every 
thought filled with apprehension for the precious treas¬ 
ure he had concealed in the cavern, the young man 


5 

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25 


148 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


started to his feet, totally regardless of the hazard he 
incurred by such an exposure. As if actuated by a com¬ 
mon impulse, his movement was imitated by his com¬ 
panions, and together they rushed down the pass to the 
5 friendly chasm, with a rapidity that rendered the scat¬ 
tering fire of their enemies perfectly harmless. The un¬ 
wonted cry had brought the sisters, together with the 
wounded David, from their place of refuge, and the 
whole party, at a single glance, was made acquainted 
10 with the nature of the disaster that had disturbed even 
the practised stoicism of their youthful Indian protector. 

At a short distance from the rock their little bark 
was to be seen floating across the eddy, towards the 
swift current of the river, in a manner which proved 
15 that its course was directed by some hidden agent. The 
instant this unwelcome sight caught the eye of the scout, 
his rifle was levelled as by instinct, but the barrel gave 
no answer to the bright sparks of the flint. 

“ ’Tis too late, ? tis too late! ” Hawkeye exclaimed, 
20 dropping the useless piece, in bitter disappointment; 
“ the miscreant has struck the rapid, and had we powder, 
it could hardly send the lead swifter than he now goes ! ” 
The adventurous Huron raised his head above the 
shelter of the canoe, and while it glided swiftly down 
25 the stream, he waved his hand and gave forth the shout 
which was the known signal of success. His cry was 
answered by a yell, and a laugh from the woods, as 
tauntingly exulting as if fifty demons were uttering their 
blasphemies at the fall of some Christian soul. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


149 


“ Well may you laugh, ye children of the devil! ” said 
the scout, seating himself on a projection of the rock, 
and suffering his gun to fall neglected at his feet, “ for 
the three quickest and truest rifles in these woods, are no 
better than so many stalks of mullen, or the last year’s 
horns of a buck ! ” 

“ What is to be done ? ” demanded Duncan, losing the 
first feeling of disappointment, in a more manly desire 
for exertion ; “ what will become of us ? ” 

Hawkeye made no other reply than by passing his 
finger around the crown of his head, in a manner so 
significant that none who witnessed the action could 
mistake its meaning. 

“ Surely, surely, our case is not so desperate! ” ex¬ 
claimed the youth ; “ the Hurons are not here; we may 
make good the caverns; we may oppose their landing.” 

“ With what ? ” coolly demanded the scout. “ The 
arrows of Uncas, or such tears as women shed ! No, no; 
you are young and rich, and have friends, and at such 
an age I know it is hard to die! but,” glancing his eyes 
at the Mohicans, “ let us remember we are men without 
a cross, and let us teach these natives of the forest, that 
white blood can run as freely as red, when the appointed 
hour is come.” 

Duncan turned quickly in the direction indicated by 
the other’s eyes, and read a confirmation of his worst 
apprehensions in the conduct of the Indians. Chingach- 
gook, placing himself in a dignified posture on another 
fragment of the rock, had already laid aside his knife 


kL 


25 






10 


15 


X 


20 




V 




150 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


and tomahawk, and was in the act of taking the eagle’s 
plume from his head and smoothing the solitary tuft of 
hair, in readiness to perform its last and revolting office. 
His countenance was composed, though thoughtful, while 
5 his dark gleaming eyes were gradually losing the fierce¬ 
ness of the combat in an expression better suited to the 
change he expected momentarily to undergo. 

“ Our case is not, cannot be so hopeless ! ” said Dun¬ 
can ; “ even at this very moment succor may be at hand. 
10 I see no enemies ! they have sickened of a struggle, in 
which they risk so much with so little prospect of gain.’’ 

“ It may be a minute, or it may be an hour, afore the 
wily sarpents steal upon us, and it is quite in natur’ for 
them to be lying within hearing at this very moment,” 
15 said Hawkeye ; “ but come they will, and in such a fash¬ 
ion as will leave us nothing to hope. Chingachgook ”— 
he spoke in Delaware — “ my brother, we have fought 
our last battle together, and the Maquas will triumph in 
the death of the sage man of the Mohicans, and of the 
20 pale face, whose eyes can make night as day and level 
the clouds to the mists of the springs.” 

“ Let the Mingo women go weep over their siain! ” 
returned the Indian with characteristic pride and un¬ 
moved firmness; “ the great snake of the Mohicans has 
25 coiled himself in their wigwams, and has poisoned their 
triumph with the wailings of children whose fathers 
have not returned ! Eleven warriors lie hid from the 
graves of their tribe, since the snows have melted, and 
none will tell where to find them, when the tongue of 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


151 


Chingachgook shall be silent! Let them draw the sharp¬ 
est knife and whirl the swiftest tomahawk, for their 
bitterest enemy is in their hands. Uncas, topmost 
branch of a noble trunk, call on the cowards to hasten, 
or their hearts will soften and they will change to 5 
women ! ” 

“ They look among the fishes for their dead ! ” re¬ 
turned the low soft voice of the youthful chieftain; 

the Hurons float with the slimy eels ! They drop 
from the oaks like fruit that is ready to be eaten; and 1C 
the Delawares laugh ! ” 

“ Ay, ay, ” muttered the scout, who had listened to 
this peculiar burst of the natives with deep attention; 

“ they have warmed their Indian feelings, and they’ll 
soon provoke the Maquas to give them a speedy end. 15 
As for me, who am of the whole blood of the whites,' 
it is befitting that I should die as becomes my color, 
with no words of scoffing in my mouth, and without 
bitterness at the heart.” 

“ Why die at all ? ” said Cora, advancing from the 2f 
place where natural horror had, until this moment, held 
her riveted to the rock; “ the path is open on every side; 
fly, then, to the woods, and call on God for succor! Go, 
brave men, we owe you too much already; let us no 
longer involve you in our hapless fortunes ! ” 

“ You but little know the craft of the Iroquois, lady, 
if you judge they have left the path open to the woods,” 
returned Hawkeye, who, however, immediately added in 
his simplicity ; u the down stream current, it is certain, 


152 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER . 


might soon sweep us beyond the reach of their rifles, oi 
the sounds of their voices.” 

“ Then try the river. Why linger to add to the num¬ 
ber of the victims of our merciless enemies ? ” 

5 “ Why,” repeated the scout, looking about him proud¬ 

ly, “ because it is better for a man to die at peace with 
himself, than to live haunted by an evil conscience. 
What answer could we give Munro, when he asked us 
where and how we left his children ? ” 

10 “ Go to him, and say that you left them with a mes¬ 

sage to hasten to their aid,” returned Cora, advancing 
nigher to the scout in her generous ardor; “ that the 
Hurons bear them into the northern wilds, but that by 
vigilance and speed they may yet be rescued; and if, 
15 after all, it should please heaven that his assistance 
come too late, bear to him,” she continued, her voice 
gradually lowering until it seemed nearly choked, “ the 
love, the blessings, the final prayers of his daughters, 
and bid him not to mourn their early fate, but to look 
20 forward with humble confidence to the Christian’s goal 
to meet his children.” 

The hard, weather-beaten features of the scout began 
to work, and when she had ended he dropped his chin 
to his hand, like a man musing profoundly on the nature 
25 of her proposal. 

“ There is reason in her words,” at length broke from 
his compressed and trembling lips; “ ay, and they bear 
the spirit of Christianity; what might be right and 
proper in a redskin may be sinful in a man who has not 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


153 


even a cross in blood to plead for his ignorance. Chin- 
gachgook! Uncas ! hear you the talk of the dark-eyed 
woman ? ” 

He now spoke in Delaware to his companions, and 
his address, though calm and deliberate, seemed very de¬ 
cided. The elder Mohican heard him with deep gravity, 
and appeared to ponder on his words, as though he felt 
the importance of their import. After a moment of hesi¬ 
tation he waved his hand in assent, and uttered the 
English word “ Good ! ” with the peculiar emphasis of 
his people. Then, replacing his knife and tomahawk in 
his girdle, the warrior moved silently to the edge of the 
rock which was most concealed from the banks of the 
river. Here he paused a moment, pointed significantly 
to the woods below, and saying a few words in his own 
language, as if indicating his intended route, he dropped 
into the water and sank from before the eyes of the 
anxious witnesses of his movements. 

The scout delayed his departure to speak to the gener¬ 
ous maiden, whose breathing became lighter as she saw 
the success of her remonstrance. 

“ Wisdom is sometimes given to the young as well as 
to the old,” he said ; “ and what you have spoken is wise, 
not to call it by a better word. If you are led into the 
woods, that is, such of you as may be spared for a while, 
break the twigs on the bushes as you pass, and make 
the marks of your trail as broad as you can, when, if 
mortal eyes can see them, depend on having a friend who 
will follow to the ends of the ^arth afore he desarts you.” 


S 

10 

15 

20 

23 


154 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


He gave Cora an affectionate shake of the hand, lifted 
his rifle, and after regarding it a moment with melan¬ 
choly solicitude, laid it carefully aside, and descended to 
the place where Chingachgook had just disappeared. 
6 For an instant he hung suspended by the rock ; and 
looking about him with a countenance of peculiar care, 
he added bitterly, “ Had the powder held out, this dis¬ 
grace could never have befallen! ” then, loosening his 
hold, the water closed above his head, and he also be- 
10 came lost to view. 

All eyes were now turned on Uncas, who stood leaning 
against the ragged rock in immovable composure. After 
waiting a short time, Cora pointed down the river, and 
said: 

15 “ Your friends have not been seen, and are now, most 

probably, in safety ; is it not time for you to follow ? ” 

“ Uncas will stay,” the young Mohican calmly an¬ 
swered, in English. 

“ To increase the horror of our capture, and to dimin- 
20 ish the chances of our release! Go, generous young 
man,” Cora continued, lowering her eyes under the gaze 
of the Mohican, and, perhaps, with an intuitive conscious¬ 
ness of her power; “ go to my father, as I have said, 
-and be the most confidential of my messengers. Tell 
25 him to trust you with the means to buy the freedom of 
his daughters. Go! *tis my wish, ? tis my prayer, that 
you will go ! ” 

The settled, calm look of the young chief changed to 
an expression of gloom, but he no longer hesitated. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


155 


With a noiseless step he crossed the rock, and dropped 
into the troubled stream. Hardly a breath was drawn 
by those he left behind, until they caught a glimpse of 
his head emerging for air, far down the current, when 
he again sank and was seen no more. 6 

These sudden and apparently successful experiments 
had all taken place in a few minutes of that time, which 
had now become so precious. After the last look at 
Uncas Cora turned, and with a quivering lip addressed 
herself to Heyward. 10 

“ I have heard of your boasted skill in the water, too, 
Duncan,” she said ; “ follow, then, the wise example set 
you by these simple and faithful beings.” 

“ Is such the faith that Cora Munro would exact from 
her protector ? ” said the young man, smiling mournfully, 15 
but with bitterness. 

“ This is not a time for idle subtleties and false opin¬ 
ions,” she answered; “ but a moment when every duty 
should be equally considered. To us you can be of no 
further service here, but your precious life may be saved 20 
for other and nearer friends.” 

He made no reply, though his eyes fell wistfully on 
the beautiful form of Alice, who was clinging to his arm 
with the dependency of an infant. 

“ Consider,” continued Cora, after a pause, during 25 
which she seemed to struggle with a pang, even more 
acute than any that her fears had excited, “that the 
worst to us can be but death; a tribute that all must 
pay at the good time of God’s appointment.” 


156 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ There are evils worse than death,”, said Duncan, 
speaking hoarsely, and as if fretful at her importunity, 
“ but which the presence of one who would die in your 
behalf may avert.” 

5 Cora ceased her entreaties ; and, veiling her face in her 
shawl, drew the nearly insensible Alice after her into the 
deepest recess of the inner cavern. 


* 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


157 


CHAPTER IX. 

Be gay securely; 

Dispel, my fair, with smiles, the tim’rous clouds, 

That hang on thy clear brow. — Death of Agrippina. 

The sudden and almost magical change from the stir¬ 
ring incidents of the combat, to the stillness that now- 
reigned around him, acted on the heated imagination 
of Heyward like some exciting dream. While all the 
images and events he had witnessed remained deeply 5 
impressed on his memory, he felt a difficulty in persuad¬ 
ing himself of their truth. Still ignorant of the fate of 
those who had trusted to the aid of the swift current, he 
at first listened intently to any signal, or sounds of alarm, 
which might announce the good or evil fortune of their 10 
hazardous undertaking. His attention was, however, 
bestowed in vain; for, with the disappearance of Uncas, 
every sign of the adventurers had been lost, leaving him 
in total uncertainty of their subsequent fate. 

In a moment of such painful doubt Duncan did not 15 
hesitate to look about him, without consulting that pro¬ 
tection from the rocks which just before had been so 
necessary to his safety. Every effort, however, to detect 
the least evidence of the approach of their hidden ene- 


158 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER . 


mies was as fruitless as the inquiry after his late com¬ 
panions. The wooded banks of the river seemed again 
deserted by everything possessing animal life. The up¬ 
roar which had so lately echoed through the vaults of 
5 the forest was gone, leaving the rush of the waters to 
swell and sink on the currents of the air in the unmin¬ 
gled sweetness of nature. A fish-hawk, which, secure on 
the topmost branches of a dead pine, had been a distant 
spectator of the fray, now stooped from his high and 
10 ragged perch, and soared in wide sweeps above his prey ; 
while a jay, whose noisy voice had been stilled by the 
hoarser cries of the savages, ventured again to open his 
discordant throat, as though once more left in undis¬ 
turbed possession of his wild domains. Duncan caught 
15 from these natural accompaniments of the solitary scene 
a glimmering of hope; and he began to rally his facul¬ 
ties to renewed exertions, with something like a reviving 
confidence of success. 

“The Hurons are not to be seen,” he said, addressing 
20 David, who had by no means recovered from the effects 
of the stunning blow he had received ; “ let us conceal 
ourselves in the cavern and trust the rest to Provi¬ 
dence.” 

“ I remember to have united with two comely maidens 
25 in lifting up our voices in praise and thanksgiving,” re¬ 
turned the bewildered singing-master; “ since which time 
I have been visited by a heavy judgment for my sins. 
I have been mocked with the likeness of sleep, while 
sounds of discord have rent my ears, such as might mani- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


159 


fest the fulness of time, and that nature had forgotten 
her harmony.” 

“Poor fellow! thine own period was, in truth, near its 
accomplishment! But arouse and come with me ; I will 
lead you where all other sounds but those of your own 5 
psalmody shall be excluded.” 

“ There is melody in the fall of the cataract, and the 
rushing of many waters is sweet to the senses! ” said 
David, pressing his hand confusedly on his brow. “ Is 
not the air yet filled with shrieks and cries, as though io 
the departed spirits of the damned — ” 

“Not now, not now,” interrupted the impatient Hey¬ 
ward, “they have ceased ; and they who raised them, I 
trust in God, they are gone too ! everything but the 
water is still and at peace ; in, then, where you may 15 
create those sounds }^ou love so well to hear.” 

David smiled sadly, though not without a momentary 
gleam of pleasure, at this allusion to his beloved voca¬ 
tion. He no longer hesitated to be led to a spot, which 
promised such unalloyed gratification to his wearied 20 
senses; and, leaning on the arm of his companion, he 
entered the narrow mouth of the cave. Duncan seized 
a pile of the sassafras, which he drew before the pas¬ 
sage, studiously concealing every appearance of an aper¬ 
ture. Within this fragile barrier he arranged the 25 
blankets abandoned by the foresters, darkening the in¬ 
ner extremity of the cavern, while its outer received a 
chastened light from the narrow ravine, through which 
one arm of the river rushed, to form the junction with 
its sister branch a few rods below. 30 


160 


JAMES FEN WORE COOPER. 


“ I like not that principle of the natives, which teaches 
them to submit without a struggle in emergencies that 
appear desperate,’’ he said, while busied in this employ¬ 
ment ; “ our own maxim, which says, ‘ while life remains 
5 there is hope,’ is more consoling, and better suited to 
a soldier’s temperament. To you, Cora, I will urge no 
words of idle encouragement; your own fortitude and 
undisturbed reason will teach you all that may become 
your sex; but cannot we dry the tears of that trembling 
10 weeper on your bosom ? ” 

“ I am calmer, Duncan,” said Alice, raising herself 
from the arms of her sister, and forcing an appearance 
of composure through her tears; much calmer, now. 
Surely, in this hidden spot, we are safe, we are secret, 
15 free from injury; we will hope everything from those 
generous men, who have risked so much already in our 
behalf.” 

“ Now does our gentle Alice speak like a daughter of 
Munro ! ” said Heyward, pausing to press her hand as 
20 he passed towards the outer entrance of the cavern. 
“ With two such examples of courage before him, a man 
would be ashamed to prove other than a hero.” He 
then seated himself in the centre of the cavern, grasping 
his remaining pistol with a hand firmly clinched, while 
25 his contracted and frowning eye announced the sullen 
desperation of his purpose. “ The Hurons, if they come, 
may not gain our position so easily as they think,” he 
lowly muttered ; and, dropping his head back against 
the rock, he seemed to await the result in patience, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


161 


though his gaze was unceasingly bent on the open 
avenue to their place of retreat. 

With the last sound of his voice, a deep, a long, and 
almost breathless silence succeeded. The fresh air of 
the morning had penetrated the recess, and its influence 5 
was gradually felt on the spirits of its inmates. As 
minute after minute passed by, leaving them in undis¬ 
turbed security, the insinuating feeling of hope was 
gradually gaining possession of every bosom, though 
each one felt reluctant to give utterance to expectations 10 
that the next moment might so fearfully destroy. 

David alone formed an exception to these varying emo¬ 
tions. A gleam of light from the opening crossed his 
wan countenance, and fell upon the pages of the little 
volume, whose leaves he was again occupied in turning, 15 
as if searching for some song more fitted to their condi¬ 
tion than any that had yet met his eye. He was most 
probably acting all this time under a confused recollec¬ 
tion of the promised consolation of Duncan. At length, 
it would seem, his patient industry found its reward; 20 
for, without explanation or apology, he pronounced aloud 
the words “Isle of Wight/ 7 drew a long, sweet sound 
from his pitch-pipe, and then ran through the prelimi¬ 
nary modulations of the air whose name he had just 
mentioned, with the sweeter tones of his own musical 25 
voice. 

“ May not this prove dangerous ? 77 asked Cora, glan¬ 
cing her dark eyes at Major Heyward. 

“Poor fellow ! his voice is too feeble to be heard amid 


162 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


the din of the falls/’ was the answer; “ besides, the 
cavern will prove his friend. Let him indulge his pas¬ 
sion, since it may be done without hazard.” 

“ Isle of Wight!” repeated David, looking about him 
5 with all that imposing dignity with which he had long 
been wont to silence the whispering echoes of his school; 
“ ’tis a brave tune, and set to solemn words; let it be 
sung with meet respect.” 

After allowing a moment of stillness to enforce his 
10 discipline, the voice of the singer was heard in low, 
murmuring syllables, gradually stealing on the ear, until 
it filled the narrow vault with sounds, rendered trebly 
thrilling by the feeble and tremulous utterance produced 
by his debility. The melody, which no weakness could 
15 destroy, gradually wrought its sweet influence on the 
senses of those who heard it. It even prevailed over 
the miserable travesty of the song of David, which the 
singer had selected from a volume of similar effusions, 
and caused the sense to be forgotten, in the insinuating 
20 harmony of the sounds. Alice unconsciously dried her 
tears, and bent her melting eyes on the pallid features 
of Gamut, with an expression of chastened delight, that 
she neither affected nor wished to conceal. Cora be¬ 
stowed an approving smile on the pious efforts of the 
25 namesake of the Jewish prince, and Heyward soon 
turned his steady, stern look from the outlet of the 
cavern, to fasten it, with a milder character, on the face 
of David, or to meet the wandering beams which at 
moments strayed from the humid eyes of Alice. The 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 163 

open sympathy of the listeners stirred the spirit of the 
votary of music, whose voice regained its richness and 
volume, without losing that touching softness which 
proved its secret charm. Exerting his renovated powers 
to their utmost, he was yet filling the arches of the cave 
with long and full tones, when a yell burst into the air 
without, that instantly stilled his pious strains, choking 
his voice suddenly, as though his heart had literally 
bounded into the passage of his throat. 

“ We are lost! ” exclaimed Alice, throwing herself 
into the arms of Cora. 

“ Not yet, not yet/’ returned the agitated but un¬ 
daunted Heyward; “ the sound came from the centre 
of the island, and it has been produced by the sight of 
their dead companions. We are not yet discovered and 
there is still hope.” 

Faint and almost despairing as was the prospect of 
escape, the words of Duncan were not thrown away, 
for it awakened the powers of the sisters in such a 
manner that they awaited the results in silence. A 
second yell soon followed the first, when a rush of 
voices was heard pouring down the island, from its 
upper to its lower extremity, until they reached the 
naked rock above the caverns, where, after a shout of 
savage triumph, the air continued full of horrible cries 
and screams, such as man alone can utter, and he only 
when in a state of the fiercest barbarity. 

The sounds quickly spread around them in every di¬ 
rection. Some called to their fellows from the water’s 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


164 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


edge, and were answered from the heights above. Cries 
were heard in the startling vicinity of the chasm be¬ 
tween the two caves, which mingled with hoarser yells 
that arose out of the abyss of the deep ravine. In 
5 short, so rapidly had the savage sounds diffused them¬ 
selves over the barren rock, that it was not difficult for 
the anxious listeners to imagine that they could be 
heard beneath, as, in truth, they were above and on 
every side of them. 

10 In the midst of this tumult a triumphant yell was 
raised within a few feet of the hidden entrance to the 
cave. Heyward abandoned every hope, with the belief 
it was the signal that they were discovered. Again the 
impression passed away, as he heard the voices collect 
15 near the spot where the white man had so reluctantly 
abandoned his rifle. Amid the jargon of the Indian 
dialects that he now plainly heard, it was easy to dis¬ 
tinguish not only words, but sentences in the patois of 
the Canadas. A burst of voices had shouted, simulta- 
20 neously, “ La Longue Carabine ! ” causing the opposite 
woods to re-echo with a name which Heyward well re¬ 
membered had been given by his enemies to a celebrated 
hunter and scout of the English camp, and who, he now 
learnt, for the first time, had been his late companion. 

25 “ La Longue Carabine ! La Longue Carabine ! ” passed 

from mouth to mouth, until the whole band appeared to 
be collected around a trophy, which would seem to an¬ 
nounce the death of its formidable owner. After a 
vociferous consultation, which was at times deafened 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


165 


by bursts of savage joy, they again separated, filling the 
air with the name of a foe whose body, Heyward could 
collect from their expressions, they hoped to find con¬ 
cealed in some crevice of the island. 

“Now/’ he whispered to the trembling sisters, “now 
is the moment of uncertainty ! if our place of retreat 
escape this scrutiny, we are still safe! In every event, 
we are assured, by what has fallen from our enemies, 
that our friends have escaped, and in two short hours we 
may look for succor from Webb.” 

There were now a few minutes of fearful stillness, 
during which Heyward well knew that the savages con¬ 
ducted their search with greater vigilance and method. 
More than once he could distinguish their footsteps, as 
they brushed the sassafras, causing the faded leaves to 
rustle and the branches to snap. At length the pile 
yielded a little, a corner of a blanket fell, and a faint 
ray of light gleamed into the inner part of the cave. 
Cora folded Alice to her bosom in agony, and Duncan 
sprang to his feet. A shout was at that moment heard, 
as if issuing from the centre of the rock, announcing 
that the neighboring cavern had at length been entered. 
In a minute, the number and loudness of the voices 
indicated that the whole party was collected in and 
around that secret place. 

As the inner passages to the two caves were so close 
to each other, Duncan, believing that escape was no 
longer possible, passed David and the sisters, to place 
himself between the latter and the first onset of the 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


166 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


terrible meeting. Grown desperate by bis situation, he 
drew nigh the slight barrier which separated him only 
by a few feet from his relentless pursuers, and placing 
his face to the casual opening, he even looked out, with 
5 a sort of desperate indifference, on their movements. 

Within reach of his arm was the brawny shoulder 
of a gigantic Indian, whose deep and authoritative voice 
appeared to give directions to the proceedings of his fel¬ 
lows. Beyond him again, Duncan could look into the 
10 vault opposite, which was filled with savages, upturning 
and rifling the humble furniture of the scout. The 
wound of David had dyed the leaves of sassafras with a 
color, that the natives well knew was anticipating the 
season. Over this sign of their success they set up a 
15 howl, like an opening from so many hounds, who had 
recovered their lost trail. After this yell of victory 
they tore up the fragrant bed of the cavern, and bore 
the branches into the chasm, scattering the boughs, as if 
they suspected them of concealing the person of the man 
20 they had so long hated and feared. One fierce and wild 
looking warrior approached the chief, bearing a load 
of the brush, and pointing exultingly to the deep red 
stains with which it was sprinkled, uttered his joy in 
Indian yells, whose meaning Heyward was only enabled 
25 to comprehend, by the frequent repetition of the name 
of “ La Longue Carabine! ” When his triumph had 
ceased, he cast the brush on the slight heap that Dun¬ 
can had made before the entrance of the second cavern, 
and closed the view. His example was followed by 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


167 


others; who, as they drew the branches from the cave 
of the scout, threw them into one pile, adding uncon¬ 
sciously to the security of those they sought. The very 
slightness of the defence was its chief merit, for no one 
thought of disturbing a mass of brush, which all of them 
believed, in that moment of hurry and confusion, had 
been accidentally raised by the hands of their own 
party. 

As the blankets yielded before the outward pressure, 
and the branches settled into the fissure of the rock by 
their own weight, forming a compact body, Duncan once 
more breathed freely. With a light step, and lighter 
heart, he returned to the centre of the cave, and took 
the place he had left, where he could command a view 
of the opening next the river. While he was in the act 
of making this movement, the Indians, as if changing 
their purpose by a common impulse, broke away from 
the chasm in a body, and were heard rushing up the 
island again towards the point whence they had origi¬ 
nally descended. Here another wailing cry betrayed 
that they were again collected around the bodies of their 
dead comrades. 

Duncan now ventured to look at his companions; for, 
during the most critical moments of their danger, he had 
been apprehensive that the anxiety of his countenance 
might communicate some additional alarm to those who 
were so little able to sustain it. 

“ They are gone, Cora! ” he whispered ; “ Alice, they 
are returned whence they came, and we are saved ! To 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


168 


JAMES FEN IM ORE COOPER. 


heaven, that has alone delivered us from the grasp of so 
merciless an enemy, be all the praise! ” 

“ Then to heaven will I return my thanks! ” exclaimed 
the younger sister, rising from the encircling arms of 
5 Cora, and casting herself, with enthusiastic gratitude, 
on the naked rock to her knees; “ to that heaven who 
has spared the tears of a gray-headed father; has saved 
the lives of those I so much love — ” 

Both Heyward and the more tempered Cora witnessed 
10 the act of involuntary emotion with powerful sympathy, 
the former secretly believing that piety had never worn 
a form so lovely, as it had now assumed in the youthful 
person of Alice. Her eyes were radiant with the glow 
of grateful feelings; the flush of her beauty was again 
15 seated on her cheeks, and her whole soul seemed ready 
and anxious to pour out its thanksgivings through the 
medium of her eloquent features. But when her lips 
moved, the words they should have uttered appeared 
frozen by some new and sudden chill. Her bloom gave 
20 place to the paleness of death; her soft and melting 
eyes grew hard, and seemed contracting with horror; 
while those hands which she had raised, clasped in each 
other, towards heaven, dropped in horizontal lines 
before her, the fingers pointing forward in convulsed 
>5 motion. Heyward turned the instant she gave a direc¬ 
tion to his suspicions, and, peering just above the ledge 
which formed the threshold of the open outlet of the 
cavern, he beheld the malignant, fierce, and savage fea¬ 
tures of Le Renard Subtil. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


169 


In that moment of surprise the self-possession of 
Heyward did not desert him. He observed by the va¬ 
cant expression of the Indian’s countenance, that his 
eye, accustomed to the open air, had not yet been able 
to penetrate the dusky light which pervaded the depth 
of the cavern. He had even thought of retreating be¬ 
yond a curvature in the natural wall, which might still 
conceal him and his companions, when, by the sudden 
gleam of intelligence that shot across the features of 
the savage, he saw it was too late, and that they were 
betrayed. 

The look of exultation and brutal triumph which an¬ 
nounced this terrible truth was irresistibly irritating. 
Forgetful of everything but the impulses of his hot 
blood, Duncan levelled his pistol and fired. The report 
of the weapon made the cavern bellow like an eruption 
from a volcano; and when the smoke it vomited had 
driven away before the current of air which issued from 
the ravine, the place so lately occupied by the features 
of his treacherous guide was vacant. Bushing to the 
outlet, Heyward caught a glimpse of his dark figure, 
stealing around a low and narrow ledge, which soon hid 
him entirely from his sight. 

Among the savages a frightful stillness succeeded the 
explosion, which had just been heard bursting from the 
bowels of the rock. But when Le Eenard raised his 
voice in a long and intelligible whoop, it was answered 
by a spontaneous yell from the mouth of every Indian 
within hearing of the sound. The clamorous noises 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


170 


JAMES FEN 1MORE COOPER. 


again rushed down the island ; and before Duncan had 
time to recover from the shock, his feeble barrier of 
brush was scattered to the winds, the cavern was entered 
at both its extremities, and he and his companions were 
5 dragged from their shelter and borne into the day, where 
they stood surrounded by the whole band of the triumph 
ant Hurons. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


171 


CHAPTER X. 

I fear we shall outsleep the coining mom, 

A 3 much as we this night have overwatched! 

Shakspeare, A Midsummer-Night*s Bream . 

The instant the shock of this sudden misfortune had 
abated, Duncan began to make his observations on the 
appearance and proceedings of their captors. Contrary 
to the usages of the natives in the wantonness of their 
success, they had respected not only the persons of the 5 
trembling sisters but his own. The rich ornaments of 
his military attire, had indeed been repeatedly handled 
by different individuals of the tribe, with eyes express¬ 
ing a savage longing to possess the baubles ; but before 
the customary violence could be resorted to, a mandate 10 
in the authoritative voice of the large warrior already 
mentioned, stayed the uplifted hand, and convinced 
Heyward that they were to be reserved for some object 
of particular moment. 

While, however, these manifestations of weakness 15 
were exhibited by the young and vain of the party, the 
more experienced warriors continued their search 
throughout both caverns, with an activity that denoted 
they were far from being satisfied with those fruits of 


172 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


their conquest which had already been brought to light. 
Unable to discover any new victim, these diligent work¬ 
ers of vengeance soon approached their male prisoners, 
pronouncing the name of “ La Longue Carabine ” with 
5 a fierceness that could not easily be mistaken. Duncan 
affected not to comprehend the meaning of their repeated 
and violent interrogatories, while his companion was 
spared the effort of a similar deception, by his ignorance 
of French. Wearied at length by their importunities, 
10 and apprehensive of irritating his captors by too stub¬ 
born a silence, the former looked about him in quest of 
Magua, who might interpret his answers to those ques¬ 
tions which were, at each moment, becoming more earnest 
and threatening. 

15 The conduct of this savage had formed a solitary ex¬ 
ception to that of all his fellows. While the others were 
busily occupied in seeking to gratify their childish pas¬ 
sion for finery, by plundering even the miserable effects 
of the scout, or had been searching, with such blood- 
20 thirsty vengeance in their looks, for their absent owner, 
Le Renard had stood at a little distance from the pris¬ 
oners, with a demeanor so quiet and satisfied as to be¬ 
tray that he, at least, had already effected the grand 
purpose of his treachery. When the eyes of Heyward 
25 first met those of his recent guide, he turned them away 
in horror at the sinister though calm look he encoun¬ 
tered. Conquering his disgust, however, he was able, 
with an averted face, to address his successful enemy: 

“ Le Renard Subtil is too much of a warrior,” said the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


173 


reluctant Heyward, “ to refuse telling an unarmed man 
what his conquerors say.” 

“ They ask for the hunter who knows the paths 
through the woods,” returned Magua in his broken Eng¬ 
lish, laying his hand at the same time, with a ferocious 
smile, on the bundle of leaves, with which a wound on 
his own shoulder was bandaged ; “ La Longue Carabine ! 
his rifle is good, and his eye never shut; but like the 
short gun of the white chief, it is nothing against the 
life of Le Subtil! ” 

“ Le Renard is too brave to remember the hurts re¬ 
ceived in war, or the hands that gave them.” 

“ Was it war, when the tired Indian rested at the 
sugar tree, to taste his corn ? Who filled the bushes 
with creeping enemies ? Who drew the knife, whose 
tongue was peace, while his heart was colored with blood ? 
Did Magua say that the hatchet was out of the ground, 
and that his hand had dug it up ? ” 

As Duncan dared not retort upon his accuser, by 
reminding him of his own premeditated treachery, and 
disdained to deprecate his resentment by any words of 
apology, he remained silent. Magua seemed also con¬ 
tent to rest the controversy, as well as all further com¬ 
munication, there, for he resumed the leaning attitude 
against the rock, from which, in his momentary energy, 
he had arisen. But the cry of “ La Longue Carabine,” 
was renewed the instant the impatient savages perceived 
that the short dialogue was ended. 

“ You hear,” said Magua, with stubborn indifference; 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ the red Hurons call for the life of ‘ The Long Eifle,* 
or they will have the blood of them that keep him hid ! ” 

“ He is gone — escaped ; he is far beyond their reach.” 

Eenard smiled with cold contempt, as he answered: 

5 “ When the white man dies, he thinks he is at peace ; 

but the red men know how to torture even the ghosts of 
their enemies. Where is his body ? Let the Hurons see 
his scalp! ” 

“ He is not dead, but escaped.” 

10 Magua shook his head incredulously. 

“ Is he a bird, to spread his wings ? or is he a fish, to 
swim without air ? The white chief reads in his books, 
and he believes the Hurons are fools! ” 

“Though no fish, ‘The Long Eifle 9 can swim. He 
15 floated down the stream when the powder was all burnt, 
and when the eyes of the Hurons were behind a cloud.” 

“ And why did the white chief stay ? ” demanded the 
still incredulous Indian. “ Is he a stone, that goes to the 
bottom, or does the scalp burn his head ? ” 

20 “ That I am not a stone, your dead comrade who fell 

into the falls might answer, were the life still in him,” 
said the provoked young man, using in his anger, that 
boastful language which was most likely to excite the 
admiration of an Indian. “ The white man thinks none 
25 but cowards desert their women.” 

Magua muttered a few words inaudibly between his 
teeth, before he continued, aloud: 

“ Can the Delawares swim, too, as well as crawl in the 
bushes ? Where is ‘ Le Gros Serpent ? 3 33 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 175 

Duncan, who perceived by the use of these Canadian 
appellations, that his late companions were much better 
known to his enemies than to himself, answered reluc¬ 
tantly : “ He also is gone down with the water.” 

“ ‘ Le Cerf Agile ’ is not here ? ” 

“ I know not whom you call the ‘ nimble deer/ ” said 
Duncan, gladly profiting by any excuse to create delay. 

“ Uncas,” returned Magua, pronouncing the Delaware 
name with even greater difficulty than he spoke his Eng¬ 
lish words. “ ‘ Bounding Elk ? is what the white man 
says, when he calls to the young Mohican.” 

“ Here is some confusion in names between us, Le 
Renard,” said Duncan, hoping to provoke a discussion. 
“ Daim is the French for deer, and cerf for stag; elan 
is the true term when one would speak of an elk.” 

“ Yes,” muttered the Indian in his native tongue; 
“ the pale faces are prattling women! they have two 
words for each thing, while a redskin will make the 
sound of his voice speak for him.” Then changing his 
language he continued, adhering to the imperfect nomen¬ 
clature of his provincial instructors, “ The deer is swift, 
but weak ; the elk is swift, but strong; and the son of 
‘Le Serpent ? is ‘Le Cerf Agile/ Has he leaped the 
river to the woods ? ” 

“ If you mean the younger Delaware, he too is gone 
down with the water.” 

As there was nothing improbable to an Indian, in the 
manner of the escape, Magua admitted the truth of what 
he had heard with a readiness that afforded additional 


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JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


evidence how little he would prize such worthless cap¬ 
tives. With his companions, however, the feeling was 
manifestly different. 

The Hurons had awaited the result of this short diar 
5 logue with characteristic patience, and with a silence, 
that increased, until there was a general stillness in the 
band. When Heyward ceased to speak, they turned their 
eyes, as one man, on Magua, demanding in this expressive 
manner an explanation of what had been said. Their in- 
10 terpreter pointed to the river, and made them acquainted 
with the result, as much by the action as by the few 
words he uttered. When the fact was generally under¬ 
stood, the savages raised a frightful yell, which declared 
the extent of their disappointment. Some ran furiously 
15 to the water’s edge, beating the air with frantic gestures, 
while others spat upon the element, to resent the sup¬ 
posed treason it had committed against their acknowl¬ 
edged rights as conquerors. A few, and they not the 
least powerful and terrific of the band, threw lowering 
20 looks, in which the fiercest passion was only tempered 
by habitual self-command, at those captives who still re¬ 
mained in their power; while one or two even gave vent 
to their malignant feelings by the most menacing ges¬ 
tures, against which neither the sex, nor the beauty of 
25 the sisters, was any protection. The young soldier made 
a desperate, but fruitless, effort to spring to the side of 
Alice, when he saw the dark hand of a savage twisted in 
the rich tresses, which were flowing in volumes over her 
shoulders, while a knife was passed around the head 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


177 


from which they fell, as if to denote the horrid manner 
in which it was about to be robbed of its beautiful orna¬ 
ment. But his hands were bound; and at the first move¬ 
ment he made he felt the grasp of the powerful Indian, 
who directed the band, pressing his shoulder like a vise. 
Immediately conscious of how unavailing any struggle 
against such an overwhelming force must prove, he sub¬ 
mitted to his fate, encouraging his gentle companions, 
by a few low and tender assurances, that the natives 
seldom failed to threaten more than they performed. 

But, while Duncan resorted to these words of consola¬ 
tion to quiet the apprehensions of the sisters, he was 
not so weak as to deceive himself. He well knew that 
the authority of an Indian chief was so little conven¬ 
tional, that it was oftener maintained by his physical su¬ 
periority than by any moral supremacy he might possess. 
The danger was, therefore, magnified exactly in propor¬ 
tion to the number of the savage spirits by which they 
were surrounded. The most positive mandate from him, 
who seemed the acknowledged leader, was liable to be 
violated at each moment by any rash hand that might 
choose to sacrifice a victim to the manes of some dead 
friend or relative. While, therefore, he sustained an 
outward appearance of calmness and fortitude, his heart 
leaped into his throat, whenever any of their fierce cap- 
tors drew nearer than common to the helpless sisters, or 
fastened one of their sullen, wandering looks on those 
fragile forms, which were so little able to resist the 
slightest assault. 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


His apprehensions were, however, greatly relieved, 
when he saw that the leader had summoned his war- 
riors to himself in council. Their deliberations were 
short, and it would seem, by the silence of most of the 
5 party, the decision unanimous. By the frequency with 
which the few speakers pointed in the direction of the 
encampment of Webb, it was apparent they dreaded the 
approach of danger from that quarter. This consider¬ 
ation probably hastened their determination and quick- 
10 ened the subsequent movements. 

During this short conference Heyward, finding a res¬ 
pite from his greatest fears, had leisure to admire the 
cautious manner in which the Hurons had made their 
approaches, even after hostilities had ceased. 

15 It has already been stated that the upper half of the 
island was a naked rock, and destitute of any other de¬ 
fences than a few scattering logs of drift wood. They 
had selected this point to make their descent, having 
borne the canoe through the wood, around the cataract, 
20 for that purpose. Placing their arms in the little vessel, 
a dozen men clinging to its sides had trusted themselves 
to the direction of the canoe, which was controlled by 
two of the most skilful warriors, in attitudes that en¬ 
abled them to command a view of the dangerous passage. 
25 Favored by this arrangement, they touched the head of 
the island, at that point which had proved so fatal to 
their first adventurers, but with the advantages of su¬ 
perior numbers and the possession of fire-arms. That 
such had been the manner of their descent was rendered 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


179 


quite apparent to Duncan, for they now bore the light 
bark from the upper end of the rock, and placed it in 
the water near the mouth of the outer cavern. As soon 
as this change was made, the leader made signs to the 
prisoners to descend and enter. As resistance was im¬ 
possible and remonstrance useless, Heyward set the 
example of submission by leading the way into the 
canoe, where he was soon seated with the sisters and 
the still wondering David. Notwithstanding the Hu- 
rons were necessarily ignorant of the little channels 
among the eddies and rapids of the stream, they knew 
the common signs of such a navigation too well to com¬ 
mit any material blunder. When the pilot chosen for 
the task of guiding the canoe had taken his station, the 
whole band plunged again into the river, the vessel 
glided down the current, and in a few moments the cap¬ 
tives found themselves on the south bank of the stream, 
nearly opposite to the point where they had struck it, 
the preceding evening. 

Here was held another short but earnest consultation, 
during which, the horses, to whose panic their owners 
ascribed their heaviest misfortune, were led from the 
cover of the woods and brought to the sheltered spot. 
The band now divided. The great chief, so often men¬ 
tioned, mounting the charger of Heyward, led the way 
directly across the river, followed by most of his people, 
and disappeared in the woods, leaving the prisoners in 
charge of six savages, at whose head was Le Renard 
Subtil. Duncan witnessed all their movements with 
renewed uneasiness. 


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55 

30 


180 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


He had been fond of believing, from the uncommon 
forbearance of the savages, that he was reserved as a 
prisoner to be delivered to Montcalm. As the thoughts 
of those who are in misery seldom slumber, and the in- 
5 vention is never more lively than when it is stimulated 
by hope, however feeble and remote, he had even ima¬ 
gined that the parental feelings of Munro were to be 
made instrumental in seducing him from his duty to the 
king. For though the French commander bore a high 
10 character for courage and enterprise, he was also thought 
to be expert in those political practices which do not 
always respect the nicer obligations of morality, and 
which so generally disgraced the European diplomacy 
of that period. 

15 All those busy and ingenious speculations were now 
annihilated by the conduct of his captors. That portion 
of the band who had followed the huge warrior, took the 
route towards the foot of Horican, and no other expecta¬ 
tion was left for himself and companions than that they 
20 were to be retained as hopeless captives by their savage 
conquerors. Anxious to know the worst, and willing, in 
such an emergency, to try the potency of gold, he over¬ 
came his reluctance to speak to Magua. Addressing 
himself to his former guide, who had now assumed the 
25 authority and manner of one who was to direct the future 
movements of the party, he said, in tones as friendly 
and confiding as he could assume — 

“ I would speak to Magua what is fit only for so great 
a chief to hear.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


181 


The Indian turned his eyes on the young soldier scorn¬ 
fully, as he answered — 

“ Speak, then; trees have no ears ! ” 

“ But the red Hurons are not deaf; and counsel that 
is fit for the great men of a nation would make the young 
warriors drunk. If Magua will not listen, the officer of 
the king knows how to be silent.” 

The savage spoke carelessly to his comrades, who were 
busied, after their awkward manner, in preparing the 
horses for the reception of the sisters, and moved a little 
to one side, whither, by a cautious gesture, he induced 
Heyward to follow. 

“Now speak,” he said; “if the words are such as 
Magua should hear.” 

“ Le Renard Subtil has proved himself worthy of the 
honorable name given to him by his Canada fathers,” 
commenced Heyward ; “ I see his wisdom and all that 
he has done for us, and shall remember it, when the hour 
to reward him arrives. Yes ! Renard has proved that he 
is not only a great chief in council, but one who knows 
how to deceive his enemies ! ” 

“ What has Renard done ? ” coldly demanded the In¬ 
dian. 

“What! has he not seen that the woods were filled 
with outlying parties of the enemies, and that the ser¬ 
pent could not steal through them without being seen ? 
Then, did he not lose his path, to blind the eyes of the 
Hurons ? Did he not pretend to go back to his tribe, 
who had treated him ill and driven him from their wig- 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


wains like a dog ? And, when we saw what he wished 
to do, did we not aid him, by making a false face, that 
the Hurons might think the white man believed that his 
friend was his enemy ? Is not all this true ? And when 
5 Le Subtil had shut the eyes and stopped the ears of his 
nation by his wisdom, did they not forget that they had 
once done him wrong and forced him to flee to the Mo¬ 
hawks ? And did they not leave him on the south side 
of the river with their prisoners, while they have gone 
10 foolishly on the north ? Does not Renard mean to turn 
like a fox on his footsteps, and carry to the rich and gray¬ 
headed Scotchman his daughters ? Yes, Magua, I see it 
all, and I have already been thinking how so much wis¬ 
dom and honesty should be repaid. First, the chief of 
15 William Henry will give as a great chief should for such 
a service. The medal of Magua will no longer be of tin, 
but of beaten gold ; his horn will run over with powder; 
dollars will be as plenty in his pouch as pebbles on the 
shore of Horican ; and the deer will lick his hand, for 
they will know it to be vain to fly from the rifle he 
will carry ! As for myself, I know not how to ex* 
ceed the gratitude of the Scotchman, but I — yes, I 
will — ” 

“ What will the young chief who comes from towards 
25 the sun give ? ” demanded the Huron, observing that 
Heyward hesitated in his desire to end the enumeration 
of benefits with that which might form the climax of an 
Indian’s wishes. 

“ He will make the fire-water from the islands in the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


183 


salt lake flow before the wigwam of Magua, until the 
heart of the Indian shall be lighter than the feathers of 
the humming-bird and his breath sweeter than the wild 
honeysuckle.” 

Le Renard had listened gravely as Heyward slowly g 
proceeded in this subtle speech. When the young man 
mentioned the artifice he supposed the Indian to have 
practised on his own nation, the countenance of the lis¬ 
tener was veiled in an expression of cautious gravity. 
At the allusion to the injury which Duncan affected to iQ 
believe had driven the Huron from his native tribe, a 
gleam of such ungovernable ferocity flashed from the 
other’s eyes as induced the adventurous speaker to be¬ 
lieve he had struck the proper chord. And by the time 
he reached the part where he so artfully blended the 15 
thirst of vengeance with the desire of gain, he had, at 
least, obtained a command of the deepest attention of 
the savage. The question put by Le Renard had been 
calm, and with all the dignity of an Indian; but it was 
quite apparent, by the thoughtful expression of the lis- 20 
tener’s countenance, that the answer was most cunningly 
devised. The Huron mused a few moments, and then 
laying his hand on the rude bandages of his wounded 
shoulder, he said with some energy — 

“ Do friends make such marks ? ” 25 

“ Would ( La Longue Carabine ’ cut one so light on an 
enemy ? 99 

“ Do the Delawares crawl upon those they love like 
snakes, twisting themselves to strike ? ” 


184 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ Would ‘ Le Gros Serpent ’ have been heard by the 
ears of one he wished to be deaf ? ” 

“ Does the white chief burn his powder in the faces 
of his brothers ? ” 

5 “ Does he ever miss his aim when seriously bent to 

kill ? ” returned Duncan, smiling with well-acted sin¬ 
cerity. 

Another long and deliberate pause succeeded these 
sententious questions and ready replies. Duncan saw 
10 that the Indian hesitated. In order to complete his vic¬ 
tory, he was in the act of recommencing the enumera¬ 
tion of the rewards, when Magua made an expressive 
gesture, and said — 

“ Enough ; Le Renard is a wise chief, and what he 
35 does will be seen. Go, and keep the mouth shut. When 
Magua speaks it will be the time to answer.” 

Heyward, perceiving that the eyes of his companion 
were warily fastened on the rest of the band, fell back 
immediately, in order to avoid the appearance of any 
20 suspicious confederacy with their leader. Magua ap¬ 
proached the horses, and affected to be well pleased with 
the diligence and ingenuity of his comrades. He then 
signed to Heyward to assist the sisters into their sad¬ 
dles, for he seldom deigned to use the English tongue, 
m unless urged by some motive of more than usual moment. 

There was no longer any plausible pretext for delay, 
and Duncan was obliged, however reluctantly, to comply. 
As he performed this office, he whispered his reviving 
hopes in the ears of the trembling maidens, who, through 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


185 


dread of encountering the savage countenances of their 
captors, seldom raised their eyes from the ground. The 
mare of David had been taken with the followers of the 
large chief; in consequence its owner, as well as Dun¬ 
can, was compelled to journey on foot. The latter did 5 
not, however, so much regret this circumstance, as it 
might enable him to retard the speed of the party; for 
he still turned his longing looks in the direction of Tort 
Edward, in the vain expectation of catching some sound 
from that quarter of the forest, which might denote the 10 
approach of speedy succor. 

When all were prepared, Magua made the signal to 
proceed, advancing in front, to lead the party in his own 
person. Next followed David, who was gradually com¬ 
ing to a true sense of his condition, as the effects of the 15 
wound became less and less apparent. The sisters rode 
in his rear with Heyward at their side, while the Indians 
flanked the party and brought up the close of the march 
with a caution that seemed never to tire. 

In this manner they proceeded in uninterrupted silence, 20 
except when Heyward addressed some solitary word of 
comfort to the females, or David gave vent to the moan- 
ings of his spirit in piteous exclamation, which he in¬ 
tended should express the humility of his resignation. 
Their direction lay towards the south, and in a course 25 
nearly opposite to the road to William Henry. Not¬ 
withstanding this apparent adherence in Magua to the 
original determination of his conquerors, Heyward could 
not believe his tempting bait was so soon forgotten; and 


186 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


lie knew the windings of an Indian path too well to 
suppose that its apparent course led directly to its object, 
when artifice was at all necessary. Mile after mile was, 
however, passed through the boundless woods in this 
5 painful manner, without any prospect of a termination 
to their journey. Heyward watched the sun, as he 
darted his meridian rays through the branches of the 
trees, and pined for the moment when the policy of 
Magua should change their route to one more favorable 
10 to his hopes. Sometimes he fancied that the wary sav¬ 
age, despairing of passing the army of Montcalm, in 
safety, was holding his way towards a well-known border 
settlement, where a distinguished officer of the crown, 
and a favored friend of the Six Nations, held his large 
15 possessions, as well as his usual residence. To be de¬ 
livered into the hands of Sir William Johnson was far 
preferable to being led into the wilds of Canada; but in 
order to effect even the former, it would be necessary to 
traverse the forest for many weary leagues, each step 
20 of which was carrying him further from the scene of the 
war, and, consequently, from the post, not only of honor 
but of duty. 

Cora alone remembered the parting injunctions of the 
scout, and whenever an opportunity offered, she stretched 
25 forth her arm to bend aside the twigs that met her hands 
But the vigilance of the Indians rendered this act of 
precaution both difficult and dangerous. She was often 
defeated in her purpose by encountering their watchful 
eyes, when it became necessary to feign an alarm she did 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


187 


not feel, and occupy the limb, by some gesture of femi¬ 
nine apprehension. Once, and once only, was she com¬ 
pletely successful; when she broke down the bough of 
a large sumach, and, by a sudden thought, let her glove 
fall at the same instant. This sign, intended for those 
that might follow, was observed by one of her conductors, 
who restored the glove, broke the remaining branches of 
the bush in such a manner that it appeared to proceed 
from the struggling of some beast in its branches, and 
then laid his hand on his tomahawk, with a look so 
significant that it put an effectual end to these stolen 
memorials of their passage. 

As there were horses to leave the prints of their foot¬ 
steps in both bands of the Indians, this interruption 
cut off any probable hopes of assistance being conveyed 
through the means of their trail. 

Heyward would have ventured a remonstrance, had 
there been anything encouraging in the gloomy reserve 
of Magua. But the savage, during all this time, seldom 
turned to look at his followers and never spoke. With 
the sun for his only guide, or aided by such blind marks 
as are only known to the sagacity of a native, he held 
his way along the barrens of pine, through occasional 
little fertile vales, across brooks and rivulets, and over 
undulating hills, with the accuracy of instinct and 
nearly with the directness of a bird. He never seemed 
to hesitate. Whether the path was hardly distinguish¬ 
able, whether it disappeared, or whether it lay beaten 
and plain before him, made no sensible difference in his 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


speed or certainty. It seemed as if fatigue could not 
affect him. Whenever the eyes of the wearied travellers 
rose from the decayed leaves over which they trod, his 
dark form was to be seen glancing among the stems of 
5 the trees in front, his head immovably fastened in a for¬ 
ward position, with the light plume on its crest, flutter¬ 
ing in a current of air, made solely by the swiftness of 
his own motion. 

But all this diligence and speed was not without an 
10 object. After crossing a low vale, through which a 
gushing brook meandered, he suddenly ascended a hill, 
so steep and difficult of ascent, that the sisters were 
compelled to alight in order to follow. When the sum¬ 
mit was gained, they found themselves on a level spot, 
15 but thinly covered with trees, under one of which Magua 
had thrown his dark form, as if willing and ready to 
seek that rest which was so much needed by the whole 
party. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


189 


CHAPTER XI. 

— Cursed be my tribe, 

If I forgive him. — Shy lock. 

The Indian had selected for this desirable purpose 
one of those steep, pyramidal hills, which bear a strong 
resemblance to artificial mounds, and which so frequently 
occur in the valleys of America. The one in question 
was high and precipitous; its top flattened as usual; 5 
but with one of its sides more than ordinarily irregular. 

It possessed no other apparent advantages for a resting- 
place than in its elevation and form, which might ren¬ 
der defence easy and surprise nearly impossible. As 
Heyward, however, no longer expected that rescue, which 10 
time and distance now rendered so improbable, he re¬ 
garded these little peculiarities with an eye devoid of 
interest, devoting himself entirely to the comfort and 
condolence of his feebler companions. The Narragan- 
setts were suffered to browse on the branches of the 15 
trees and shrubs, that were thinly scattered over the 
summit of the hill, while the remains of their provisions 
were spread under the shade of a beech, that stretched 
its horizontal limbs like a canopy above them. 

Notwithstanding the swiftness of their flight, one of 20 


190 


JAMES FEN 1MORE COOPER. 


the Indians had found an opportunity to strike a strag. 
gling fawn with an arrow, and had borne the more 
preferable fragments of the victim patiently on his 
shoulders to the stopping-place. Without any aid from 
5 the science of cookery, he was immediately employed, 
in common with his fellows, in gorging himself with this 
digestible sustenance. Magua alone sat apart, without 
participation in the revolting meal, and apparently buried 
in the deepest thought. 

10 This abstinence, so remarkable in an Indian when he 
possessed the means of satisfying hunger, at length at¬ 
tracted the notice of Heyward. The young man will¬ 
ingly believed that the Huron deliberated on the most 
eligible manner to elude the vigilance of his associates. 
15 With a view to assist his plans by any suggestion of his 
own and to strengthen the temptation, he left the beech 
and straggled, as if without an object, to the spot where 
Le Eenard was seated. 

“ Has not Magua kept the sun in his face long enough 
20 to escape all danger from the Canadians ? ” he asked, 
as though no longer doubtful of the good intelligence 
established between them ; “ and will not the chief of 
William Henry be better pleased to see his daughters 
before another night may have hardened his heart to 
25 their loss, and will make him less liberal in his re¬ 
ward ? ” 

u Ho the pale faces love their children less in the 
morning than at night ? ” asked the Indian, coldly. 

“ By no means,” returned Heyward, anxious to recall 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


191 


his error, if he had made one; “ the white man may, 
and does often, forget the burial-place of his fathers; 
he sometimes ceases to remember those he should love, 
and has promised to cherish ; but the affection of a par¬ 
ent for his child is never permitted to die.” 

“ And is the heart of the white-headed chief soft, and 
will he think of the babes that his squaws have given 
him ? He is hard to his warriors, and his eyes are 
made of stone ! ” 

“ He is severe to the idle and wicked, but to the sober 
and deserving he is a leader, both just and humane. I 
have known many fond and tender parents, but never 
have I seen a man whose heart was softer towards his 
child. You have seen the gray-head in front of his 
warriors, Magua; but I have seen his eyes swimming 
in water, when he spoke of those children who are now 
in your power ! ” 

Heyward paused, for he knew not how to construe the 
remarkable expression that gleamed across the swarthy 
features of the attentive Indian. At first it seemed as 
if the remembrance of the promised reward grew vivid 
in his mind, as he listened to the scources of parental 
feeling which were to assure its possession ; but as Dun¬ 
can proceeded, the expression of joy became so fiercely 
malignant, that it was impossible not to apprehend it 
proceeded from some passion more sinister then avarice. 

“ Go,” said the Huron, suppressing the alarming ex¬ 
hibition in an instant, in a death-like calmness of coun¬ 
tenance ; u go to the dark-haired daughter and say, 


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JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


Magua waits to speak. The father will remember what 
the child promises.” 

Duncan, who interpreted this speech to express a wish 
for some additional pledge that the promised gifts should 
5 not be withheld, slowly and reluctantly repaired to the 
place where the sisters were now resting from their 
fatigue, to communicate its purport to Cora. 

“ You understand the nature of an Indian’s wishes,” 
he concluded, as he led her towards the place where she 
\0 was expected, “ and must be prodigal of your offers of 
powder and blankets. Ardent spirits are, however, the 
most prized by such as he ; nor would it be amiss to add 
some boon from your own hand, w T ith that grace you so 
well know how to practise. Remember, Cora, that on 
15 your presence of mind and ingenuity, even your life, as 
well as that of Alice, may in some measure depend.” 

“ Heyward, and yours ! ” 

“Mine is of little moment; it is already sold to my 
king, and is a prize to be seized by any enemy who may 
20 possess the power. I have no father to expect me, and 
but few friends to lament a fate which I have courted 
with the unsatiable longings of youth after distinction. 
But hush! we approach the Indian. Magua, the lady, 
with whom you wish to speak, is here.” 

25 The Indian rose slowly from his seat, and stood for 
near a minute silent and motionless. He then signed 
with his hand for Heyward to retire, saying coldly: 

“ When the Huron talks to the women, his tribe shut 
their ears.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


193 


Duncan still lingering, as if refusing to comply, Cora 
said, with a calm smile: 

“You hear, Heyward, and delicacy, at least, should 
urge you to retire. Go to Alice and comfort her with 
our reviving prospects.” 

She waited until he had departed, and then turning to 
the native, with all the dignity of her sex, in her voice 
and manner, she added: “ What would Le Renard say 
to the daughter of Munro ? ” 

“ Listen,” said the Indian, laying his hand firmly upon 
her arm, as if willing to draw her utmost attention to 
his words; a movement that Cora as firmly but quietly 
repulsed by extricating the limb from his grasp: “ Ma- 
gua was born a chief and a warrior among the red IIu- 
rons of the lakes; he saw the suns of twenty summers 
make the snows of twenty winters run off in the streams, 
before he saw a pale face; and he was happy! Then 
his Canada fathers came into the woods and taught him 
to drink the fire-water, and he became a rascal. The 
Hurons drove him from the graves of his fathers, as they 
would chase the hunted buffalo. He ran down the 
shores of the lakes, and followed their outlet to the ‘ City 
of Cannon.’ There he hunted and fished, till the people 
chased him again through the woods into the arms of his 
enemies. The chief, who was born a Huron, was at last 
a warrior among the Mohawks ! ” 

“ Something like this I had heard before,” said Cora, 
observing that he paused to suppress those passions 
which began to burn with too bright a flame, as he re¬ 
called the recollection of his supposed injuries. 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“Was it the fault of Le Benard that his head was not 
made of rock ? Who gave him the fire-water ? Who 
made him a villain ? ? Twas the pale faces, the people 
of your own color.” 

5 “And am I answerable that thoughtless and unprin¬ 
cipled men exist, whose shades of countenance may re¬ 
semble mine ? ” Cora calmly demanded of the excited 
savage. 

“No; Magua is a man, and not a fool; such as you 
10 never open their lips to the burning stream; the Great 
Spirit has given you wisdom ! ” 

“What then have I to do or say in the matter of 
your misfortunes, not to say of your errors ? ” 

“ Listen,” repeated the Indian, resuming his earnest 
15 attitude; “ when his English and French fathers dug 
up the hatchet, Le Benard struck the war-post of the 
Mohawks and went off against his own nation. The 
pale faces have driven the redskins from their hunting- 
grounds, and now when they fight a white man leads the 
20 way. The old chief of Horican, your father, was the great 
captain of our war party. He said to the Mohawks, do 
this, and do that, and he was minded. He made a law, 
that if an Indian swallowed the fire-water and came into 
the cloth wigwams of his warriors, it should not be for- 
25 gotten. Magua foolishly opened his mouth, and the 
hot liquor led him into the cabin of Munro. What did 
the gray-head ? Let his daughter say.” 

“He forgot not his words, and did justice by punish¬ 
ing the offender,” said the undaunted daughter. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


195 


“ Justice ! ” repeated the Indian, casting an oblique 
glance of the most ferocious expression at her unyielding 
countenance; “ is it justice to make evil, and then 
punish for it ? Magua was not himself; it was the 
fire-water that spoke and acted for him ! but Munro did 
not believe it. The Huron chief was tied up before all 
the pale faced warriors, and whipped like a dog.” 

Cora remained silent, for she knew not how to palliate 
this imprudent severity on the part of her father, in a 
manner to suit the comprehension of an Indian. 

“ See! ” continued Magua, tearing aside the slight 
calico that very imperfectly concealed his painted breast; 
“ here are scars given by knives and bullets — of these 
a warrior may boast before his nation; but the gray- 
head has left marks on the back of the Huron chief, 
that he must hide, like a squaw, under this painted cloth 
of the whites. ” 

“I had thought,” resumed Cora, “that an Indian 
warrior was patient, and that his spirit felt not and 
knew not the pain his body suffered ? ” 

“ When the Chippewas tied Magua to the stake and 
cut this gash,” said the other, laying his finger on a deep 
scar on his bosom, “ the Huron laughed in their faces, 
and told them, Women struck so light! His spirit was 
then in the clouds! But when he felt the blows of 
Munro, his spirit lay under the birch. The spirit of a 
Huron is never drunk ; it remembers forever ! ” 

“ But it may be appeased. If my father has done you 
this injustice, show him how an Indian can forgive an 


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JAMES FENIMOllE COOPER. 


injury, and take back bis daughters. You have heard 
from Major Heyward — ” 

Magua shook his head, forbidding the repetition of 
offers he so much despised. 

5 “ What would you have ? ” continued Cora, after a 

most painful pause, while the conviction forced itself 
on her mind, that the too sanguine and generous Dun¬ 
can had been cruelly deceived by the cunning of the 
savage. 

10 “ What a Huron loves — good for good; bad for 

bad ! ” 

“ You would then revenge the injury inflicted by 
Munro, on his helpless daughters. Would it not be 
more like a man to go before his face and take the sat- 
15 isfaction of a warrior ? ” 

“ The arms of the pale faces are long and their knives 
sharp ! ” returned the savage, with a malignant laugh; 
“ why should Le Renard go among the muskets of his 
warriors, when he holds the spirit of the gray-head in 
20 his hand ? ” 

“Name your intention, Magua,” said Cora, struggling 
with herself to speak with steady calmness. “ Is it to 
lead us prisoners to the woods, or do you contemplate 
even some greater evil ? Is there no reward, no means 
25 of palliating the injury, and of softening your heart ? 
At least release my gentle sister, and pour out all your 
malice on me. Purchase wealth by her safety, and sat¬ 
isfy your revenge with a single victim. The loss of 
both his daughters might bring the aged man to his 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


197 


grave, and where would then be the satisfaction of Le 
Renard ? ” 

“ Listen, 1 ” said the Indian again. “ The light eyes can 
go back to the Horican, and tell the old chief what has 
been done, if the dark-haired woman will swear, by the 5 
Great Spirit of her fathers, to tell no lie.” 

“ What must I promise ? ” demanded Cora, still main¬ 
taining a secret ascendency over the fierce native by the 
collected and feminine dignity of her presence. 

“ When Magua left his people, his wife was given to 10 
another chief ; he has now made friends with the Hurons, 
and will go back to the graves of his tribe on the shores 
of the great lake. Let the daughter of the English chief 
follow, and live in his wigwam forever.” 

However revolting a proposal of such a character 15 
might prove to Cora, she retained, notwithstanding her 
powerful disgust, sufficient self-command to reply with¬ 
out betraying the weakness. 

“ And what pleasure would Magua find in sharing his 
cabin with a wife he did not love ; one who would be of 2d 
a nation and color different from his own ? It would be 
better to take the gold of Munro and buy the heart of 
some Huron maid with his gifts.” 

The voice of Magua answered in its tones of deepest 
malignancy: 25 

“ When the blows scorched the back of the Huron, he 
would know where to find a woman to feel the smart. 
The daughter of Munro would draw iiis water, hoe his 
corn, and cook his venison. The body of the gray-head 


198 


JAMES FENIMOIIE COOPER. 


would sleep among his cannon, but his heart would lie 
within reach of the knife of Le Subtil.” 

“ Monster! well dost thou deserve thy treacherous 
name! ” cried Cora, in an ungovernable burst of filial 
5 indignation. “ None but a fiend could meditate such a 
vengeance ! But thou overratest thy power ! You shall 
find it is, in truth, the heart of Munro you hold, and 
that it will defy your utmost malice ! ” 

The Indian answered this bold defiance by a ghastly 
10 smile, that showed an unaltered purpose, while he mo¬ 
tioned her away, as if to close their conference forever. 
Cora, already regretting her precipitation, was obliged 
to comply; for Magua instantly left the spot and ap¬ 
proached his gluttonous comrades. Heyward flew to 
15 the side of the agitated maiden, and demanded the result 
of a dialogue that he had watched at a distance with so 
much interest. But unwilling to alarm the fears of 
Alice, she evaded a direct reply, betraying only by her 
countenance her utter want of success, and keeping her 
20 anxious looks fastened on the slightest movements of 
their captors. To the reiterated and earnest questions 
of her sister concerning their probable destination, she 
made no other answer than by pointing towards the dark 
group with an agitation she could not control, and mur- 
25 muring, as she folded Alice to her bosom: 

“ There, there; read our fortunes in their faces; we 
shall see! we shall see ! ” 

The action and the choked utterance of Cora spoke 
more impressively than any words, and quickly drew the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


199 


attention of her companions on that spot, where her own 
was riveted with an intenseness that nothing but the 
importance of the stake could create. 

When Magua reached the cluster of lolling savages, 
who, gorged with their disgusting meal, lay stretched on 5 
the earth in brutal indulgence, he commenced speaking 
with the dignity of an Indian chief. The first syllables 
he uttered, had the effect to cause his listeners to raise 
themselves in attitudes of respectful attention. As the 
Huron used his native language, the prisoners, notwith -10 
standing the caution of the natives had kept them within 
the swing of their tomahawks, could only conjecture the 
substance of his harangue, from the nature of those sig¬ 
nificant gestures with which an Indian always illustrates 
his eloquence. 15 

At first, the language, as well as the action of Magua, 
appeared calm and deliberative. When he had succeeded 
in sufficiently awakening the attention of his comrades, 
Heyward fancied, by his pointing so frequently toward 
the direction of the great lakes, that he spoke of the land 20 
of their fathers and of their distant tribe. Frequent 
indications of applause escaped the listeners, who, as 
they uttered the expressive “ Hugh! ” looked at each 
other in commendation of the speaker. Le Renard was 
too skilful to neglect his advantage. He now spoke of 25 
the long and painful route by which they had left those 
spacious grounds and happy villages to come and battle 
against the enemies of their Canadian fathers. He enu¬ 
merated the warriors of the party, their several merits, 


200 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


their frequent services to the nation, their wounds, and 
the number of the scalps they had taken. Whenever he 
alluded to any present (and the subtle Indian neglected 
none), the dark countenance of the flattered individual 
5 gleamed with exultation, nor did he even hesitate to as¬ 
sert the truth of the words by gestures of applause and 
confirmation. Then the voice of the speaker fell and 
lost the loud, animated tones of triumph with which he 
had enumerated their deeds of success and victory. He 
10 described the cataract of Glenn’s ; the impregnable posi¬ 
tion of its rocky island, with its caverns and its numer¬ 
ous rapids and whirlpools; he named the name of ‘ La 
Longue Carabine,’ and paused until the forest beneath 
them had sent up the last echo of a loud and long yell, 
15 with which the hated appellation was received. He 
pointed toward the youthful military captive, and de¬ 
scribed the death of a favorite warrior, who had been 
precipitated into the deep ravine by his hand. He not 
only mentioned the fate of him who, hanging between 
20 heaven and earth, had presented such a spectacle of hor¬ 
ror to the whole band, but he acted anew the terrors of 
his situation, his resolution and his death, on the branches 
of a sapling; and, finally, he rapidly recounted the man¬ 
ner in which each of their friends had fallen, never 
25 failing to touch upon their courage and their most ac¬ 
knowledged virtues. When this recital of events was 
ended, his voice once more changed, and became plain¬ 
tive, and even musical, in its low, guttural sounds. He 
now spoke of the wives and children of the slain; their 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


201 


destitution ; their misery, both physical and moral; their 
distance ; and, at last, of their unavenged wrongs. Then 
suddenly lifting his voice to a pitch of terrific energy, 
he concluded by demanding : 

“ Are the Hurons dogs, to bear this ? Who shall say 5 
to the wife of Menowgua, that the fishes have his scalp, 
and that his nation have not taken revenge ? Who will 
dare meet the mother of Wassawattimie, that scornful 
woman, with his hands clean? What shall be said to 
the old men, when they ask us for scalps, and we have 10 
not a hair from a white head to give them ? The women 
will point their fingers at us. There is a dark spot 
on the names of the Hurons, and it must be hid in 
blood! ” 

His voice was no longer audible in the burst of rage, 15 
which now broke into the air, as if the wood, instead of 
containing so small a band, was filled with the nation. 
During the foregoing address, the progress of the speaker 
was too plainly read by those most interested in his suc¬ 
cess, through the medium of the countenances of the 20 
men he addressed. They had answered his melancholy 
and mourning, by sympathy and sorrow; his assertions, 
by gestures of confirmation; and his boastings, with the 
exultation of savages. When he spoke of courage, their 
looks were firm and responsive ; when he alluded to their 25 
injuries, their eyes kindled with fury; when he men¬ 
tioned the taunts of their women, they dropped their 
heads in shame; but when he pointed out their means 
of vengeance, he struck a chord which never failed to 


202 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


thrill in the breast of an Indian. With the first intima- 
tion that it was within their reach, the whole band sprang 
upon their feet as one man; giving utterance to their 
rage in the most frantic cries, they rushed upon their 
5 prisoners in a body, with drawn knives and uplifted 
tomahawks. Heyward threw himself between the sis¬ 
ters and the foremost, whom he grappled with a desper¬ 
ate strength that for a moment checked his violence. 
This unexpected resistance gave Magua time to inter- 
10 pose, and with rapid enunciation and animated gestures 
he drew the attention of the band again to himself. In 
that language he knew so well how to assume, he diverted 
his comrades from their instant purpose, and invited 
them to prolong the misery of their victims. His pro- 
15 posal was received with acclamations and executed with 
the swiftness of thought. 

Two powerful warriors cast themselves on Heyward, 
while another was occupied in securing the less active 
singing-master. Neither of the captives, however, sub- 
20 mitted without a desperate though fruitless struggle. 
Even David hurled his assailant to the earth; nor was 
Heyward secured, until the victory over his companion 
enabled the Indians to direct their united force to that 
object. He was then bound and fastened to the body of 
25 the sapling, on whose branches Magua had acted the 
pantomime of the falling Huron. When the young sol¬ 
dier regained his recollection, he had the painful cer¬ 
tainty before his eyes, that a common fate was intended 
for the whole party. On his right was Cora, in a durance 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


203 


similar to his own, pale and agitated, but with an eye 
whose steady look still read the proceedings of their 
enemies. On his left the withes which bound her to a 
pine performed that office for Alice which her trembling 
limbs refused, and alone kept her fragile form from 
sinking. Her hands were clasped before her in prayer, 
but instead of looking upward towards that Power which 
alone could rescue them, her unconscious looks wandered 
to the countenance of Duncan, with infantile dependency. 
David had contended; and the novelty of the circum¬ 
stance held him silent, in deliberation on the propriety 
of the unusual occurrence. 

The vengeance of the Hurons had now taken a new 
direction, and they prepared to execute it, with that bar¬ 
barous ingenuity, with which they were familiarized by 
the practice of centuries. Some sought knots, to raise 
the blazing pile; one was riving the splinters of pine, in 
order to pierce the flesh of their captives with the burn¬ 
ing fragments; and others bent the tops of two saplings 
to the earth, in order to suspend Heyward by the arms 
between the recoiling branches. But the vengeance of 
Magua sought a deeper and a more malignant enjoy¬ 
ment. 

While the less refined monsters of the band prepared, 
before the eyes of those who were to suffer, these well 
known and vulgar means of torture, he approached Cora, 
and pointed out, with the most malign expression of 
countenance, the speedy fate that awaited her, — 

u Ha! ” he added, “ what says the daughter of Munro ? 


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204 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Her head is too good to find a pillow in the wigwam of 
Le Renard; will she like it better when it rolls about 
this hill, a plaything for the wolves ? ” 

“ What means the monster ? ” demanded the astonished 
a Heyward. 

“ Nothing! ” was the firm reply. “ He is a savage, a 
barbarous and ignorant savage, and knows not what he 
does. Let us find leisure, with our dying breath, to ask 
for him penitence and pardon.” 

10 " Pardon! ” echoed the fierce Huron, mistaking, in his 

anger, the meaning of her words; “ the memory of an 
Indian is longer than the arm of the pale faces; his 
mercy shorter than their justice ! Say; shall I send the 
yellow-hair to her father, and will you follow Magua to 
15 the great lakes, to carry his water and feed him with 
corn ? ” 

Cora beckoned him away with an emotion of disgust 
she could not control. 

“ Leave me,” she said, with a solemnity that for a mo- 
20 ment checked the barbarity of the Indian; “ you mingle 
bitterness in my prayers, and stand between me and my 
God! ” 

The slight impression produced on the savage was, 
however, soon forgotten, and he continued, pointing with 
25 taunting irony towards Alice. 

“ Look! the child weeps ! She is young to die! Send 
her to Munro, to comb his gray hairs, and keep life in 
the heart of the old man.” 

Cora could not resist the desire to look upon her youth* 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 205 

ful sister, in whose eyes she met an imploring glance, 
that betrayed the longings of nature. 

“ What says he, dearest Cora ? ” asked the trembling 
voice of Alice. “Did he speak of sending me to our 
father ? ” 

For many moments the elder sister looked upon the 
younger, with a countenance that wavered with powerful 
and contending emotions. At length she spoke, though 
her tones had lost their rich and calm fulness, in an 
expression of tenderness that seemed maternal. 

“ Alice,” she said, “ the Huron offers us both life — 
nay, more than both; he offers to restore Duncan — our 
invaluable Duncan, as well as you, to our friends — to 
our father — to our heart-stricken, childless father, if I 
will bow down this rebellious, stubborn pride of mine, 
and consent — ” 

Her voice became choked, and clasping her hand she 
looked upward, as if seeking, in her agony, intelligence 
from a wisdom that was infinite. 

“ Say on,” cried Alice; “ to what, dearest Cora ? Oh! 
that the proffer were made to me! to save you, to cheer 
our aged father, to restore Duncan, how cheerfully could 
I die! ” 

“ Die ! ” repeated Cora, with a calmer and a firmer 
voice, “ that were easy ! Perhaps the alternative may 
not be less so. He would have me,” she continued, her 
accents sinking under a deep consciousness of the degra¬ 
dation of the proposal, “ follow him to the wilderness; 
go to the habitations of the Hurons; to remain there: 


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206 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


in short, to become his wife ! Speak then, Alice; child 
of my affections! sister of my love! And you, too, 
Major Heyward, aid my weak reason with your counsel. 
Is life to be purchased by such a sacrifice ? Will you, 
5 Alice, receive it at my hands, at such a price ? And 
you, Duncan; guide me ; control me between you; for I 
am wholly yours.” 

“Would I!” echoed the indignant and astonished 
youth. “ Cora! Cora ! you jest with our misery ! Name 
10 not the horrid alternative again; the thought itself is 
worse than a thousand deaths.” 

“ That such would be your answer, I well knew! ” 
exclaimed Cora, her cheeks flushing, and her dark eyes 
once more sparkling with the glow of the lingering emo- 
15 tions of a woman. “ What says my Alice ? for her will 
I submit without another murmur.” 

Although both Heyward and Cora listened with pain¬ 
ful suspense and the deepest attention, no sounds were 
heard in reply. It appeared as if the delicate and sen- 
20 sitive form of Alice would shrink into itself, as she 
listened to this proposal. Her arms had fallen length¬ 
wise before her, with the fingers moving in slight con¬ 
vulsions ; her head dropped upon her bosom, and her 
whole person seemed suspended against the tree, looking 
25 like some beautiful emblem of the wounded delicacy of 
her sex, devoid of animation, and yet keenly conscious. 
In a few moments, however, her head began to move 
slowly, in a sign of deep, unconquerable disapproba¬ 
tion. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


207 


“No, no, no; better that we die as we have lived, 
together ! ” 

“ Then die! ” shouted Magua, hurling his tomahawk 
with violence at the unresisting speaker, and gnashing 
his teeth with a rage that could no longer be bridled, at 5 
this sudden exhibition of firmness in the one he believed 
the weakest of the party. The axe cleaved the air in 
front of Heyward, and cutting some of the flowing 
ringlets of Alice, quivered in the tree above her head. 
The sight maddened Duncan to desperation. Collect -10 
ing all his energies in one effort, he snapped the twigs 
which bound him, and rushed upon another savage, 
who was preparing, with loud yells and a more deliberate 
aim, to repeat the blow. They encountered, grappled, 
and fell to the earth together. The naked body of his 15 
antagonist afforded Heyward no means of holding his 
adversary, who glided from his grasp, and rose again 
with one knee on his chest, pressing him down with the 
weight of a giant. Duncan already saw the knife gleam¬ 
ing in the air, when a whistling sound swept past him, 20 
and was rather accompanied, than followed, by the sharp 
crack of a rifle. He felt his breast relieved from the 
load it had endured; he saw the savage expression of 
his adversary’s countenance change to a look of vacant 
wildness, when the Indian fell dead, on the faded leaves 2f> 
by his side„ 


208 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


CHAPTER XII. 

Clo. — I am gone, sir, 

And anon, sir, 

I’ll be with you again. 

Shakspeare, Twelfth Night. 

The Hurons stood aghast at this sudden visitation of 
death on one of their band. But, as they regarded the 
fatal accuracy of an aim, which had dared to immolate 
an enemy, at so much hazard to a friend, the name of 
5 “ La Longue Carabine ” burst simultaneously from every 
lip, and was succeeded by a wild and a sort of plaintive 
howl. The cry was answered by a loud shout from a 
little thicket, where the incautious party had piled their 
arms; and, at the next moment, Hawkeye, too eager to 
10 load the rifle he had regained, was seen advancing upon 
them, brandishing the clubbed weapon, and cutting the 
air with wide and powerful sweeps. Bold and rapid as 
was the progress of the scout, it was exceeded by that 
of a light and vigorous form, which bounding past him, 
15 leaped, with incredible activity and daring, into the very 
centre of the Hurons, where it stood, whirling a toma¬ 
hawk and flourishing a glittering knife with fearful 
menaces, in front of Cora. Quicker than the thoughts 
could follow these unexpected and audacious movements. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


209 


an image, armed in the emblematic panoply of death, 
glided before their eyes, and assumed a threatening atti¬ 
tude at the other’s side. The savage tormentors recoiled 
before these warlike intruders, and uttered, as they 
appeared, in such quick succession, the often repeated 
and peculiar expression of surprise followed by the 
well-known and dreaded appellations of — 

“ Le Cerf Agile ! Le G-ros Serpent! ” 

But the wary and vigilant leader of the Hurons, was 
not so easily disconcerted. Casting his keen eyes around 
the little plain, he comprehended the nature of the 
assault at a glance, and encouraging his followers by his 
voice, as well as by his example, he unsheathed his long 
and dangerous knife, and rushed, with a loud whoop 
upon the expecting Chingachgook. It was the signal for 
a general combat. Neither party had fire-arms, and the 
contest was to be decided in the deadliest manner; 
hand to hand, with weapons of offence and none of 
defence. 

Uncas answered the whoop, and leaping on an enemy, 
with a single, well-directed blow of his tomahawk, cleft 
him to the brain. Heyward tore the weapon of Magua 
from the sapling and rushed eagerly towards the fray. 
As the combatants were now equal in number, each sin¬ 
gled an opponent from the adverse band. The rush and 
blows passed with the fury of a whirlwind and the 
swiftness of lightning. Hawkeye soon got another 
enemy within reach of his arm, and with one sweep of 
his formidable weapon, he beat down the slight and in- 


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20 

25 


210 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


artificial defences of his antagonist, crushing him to the 
earth with the blow. Heyward ventured to hurl the 
tomahawk he had seized, too ardent to await the mo- 
ment of closing. It struck the Indian he had selected 
5 on the forehead, and checked for an instant his onward 
rush. Encouraged by this slight advantage, the impetu¬ 
ous young man continued his onset, and sprang upon his 
enemy with naked hands. A single instant was suffi¬ 
cient to assure him of the rashness of the measure, for 
10 he immediately found himself fully engaged, with all 
his activity and courage, in endeavoring to ward the 
desperate thrusts made with the knife of the Huron. 
Unable longer to foil an enemy so alert and vigilant, he 
threw his arms about him, and succeeded in pinning the 
15 limbs of the other to his side, with an iron grasp, but 
one that was far too exhausting to himself to continue 
long. In this extremity he heard a voice near him, 
shouting: 

“ Extarminate the varlets ! no quarter to an accursed 
20 Mingo ! 99 

At the next moment, the breech of Hawkeye’s rifle 
fell on the naked head of his adversary, whose muscles 
appeared to wither under the shock, as he sunk from 
the arms of Duncan, flexible and motionless. 

25 When Uncas had brained his first antagonist, he 
turned, like a hungry lion, to seek another. The fifth 
and only Huron disengaged at the first onset had paused 
a moment, and then seeing that all around him were 
employed in the deadly strife^ he had sought, with hell- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


211 


ish vengeance, to complete the baffled work of revenge. 
Raising a shout of triumph, he sprang towards the de¬ 
fenceless Cora, sending his keen axe as the dreadful 
precursor of his approach. The tomahawk grazed her 
shoulder, and cutting the withes which bound her to the 5 
tree, left the maiden at liberty to fly. She eluded the 
grasp of the savage, and reckless of her own safety, 
threw herself on the bosom of Alice, striving, with con¬ 
vulsed and ill-directed fingers, to tear asunder the twigs 
which confined the person of her sister. Any other than 10 
a monster would have relented at such an act of gener¬ 
ous devotion to the best and purest affection; but the 
breast of the Huron was a stranger to sympathy. Seiz¬ 
ing Cora by the rich tresses which fell in confusion about 
her form, he tore her from her frantic hold, and bowed 15 
her down with brutal violence to her knees. The savage 
drew the flowing curls through his hand, and raising 
them on high with an outstretched arm, he passed the 
knife around the exquisitely moulded head of his victim, 
with a taunting and exulting laugh. But he purchased 20 
this moment of fierce gratification with the loss of the 
fatal opportunity. It was just then the sight caught 
the eye of Uncas. Bounding from his footsteps, he 
appeared for an instant darting through the air, and 
descending in a ball he fell on the chest of his enemy, 25 
driving him for many yards from the spot, headlong and 
prostrate. The violence of the exertion cast the young 
Mohican at his side. They arose together, fought, and 
bled, each in his turn. But the conflict was soon de- 


212 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


cided ; the tomahawk of Heyward, and the rifle of Hawk- 
eye descended on the skull of the Huron at the same 
moment that the knife of Uncas reached his heart. 

The battle was now entirely terminated, with the ex- 
5 ception of the protracted struggle between “ Le Renard 
Subtil” and “Le Gros Serpent/ 7 Well did these bar¬ 
barous warriors prove that they deserved those signifi¬ 
cant names, which had been bestowed for deeds in 
former wars. When they engaged, some little time was 
10 lost in eluding the quick and vigorous thrusts which had 
been aimed at their lives. Suddenly darting on each 
other, they closed, and came to the earth, twisted to¬ 
gether, like twining serpents, in pliant and subtle folds. 
At the moment when the victors found themselves un- 
15 occupied, the spot where these experienced and desperate 
combatants lay could only be -distinguished by a cloud 
of dust and leaves, which moved from the centre of the 
little plain towards its boundary, as if raised by the 
passage of a whirlwind. Urged by the different motives 
20 of filial affection, friendship, and gratitude, Heyward 
and his companions rushed with one accord to the place, 
encircling the little canopy of dust which hung above 
the warriors. In vain did Uncas dart around the cloud, 
with a wish to strike his knife into the heart of his 
25 father’s foe; the threatening rifle of Hawkeye was 
raised and suspended in vain ; while Duncan endeavored 
to seize the limbs of the Huron, with hands that ap¬ 
peared to have lost their power. Covered, as they were, 
with dust and blood, the swift evolutions of the com- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


213 


batants seemed to incorporate their bodies into one. 
The death-like looking figure of the Mohican and the 
dark form of the Huron gleamed before their eyes in 
such quick and confused succession, that t!ie friends of 
the former knew not where nor when to plant their 5 
succoring blows. It is true, there were short and fleet¬ 
ing moments, when the fiery eyes of Magua were seen 
glittering, like the fabled organs of the basilisk, through 
the dusty wreath by which he was enveloped, and he 
read by those short and deadly glances the fate of the 10 
combat in the hated countenances and in the presence 
of his enemies; ere, however, any hostile hand could 
descend on his devoted head, its place was filled by the 
scowling visage of Chingachgook. In this manner, the 
scene of the combat was removed from the centre of 15 
the little plain to its verge. The Mohican now found an 
opportunity to make a powerful thrust with his knife; 
Magua suddenly relinquished his grasp, and fell back¬ 
ward, without motion, and, seemingly, without life. His 
adversary leaped on his feet, making the arches of the 20 
forest ring with the sounds of his shout of triumph. 

“ Well done for the Delawares! victory to the Mo¬ 
hican ! ” cried Hawkeye, once more elevating the butt 
of the long and fatal rifle; “a finishing blow from a 
man without a cross will never tell against his honor 25 
nor rob him of his right to the scalp! ” 

But, at the very moment when the dangerous weapon 
was in the act of descending, the subtle Huron rolled 
swiftly from beneath the danger, over the edge of the 


214 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


precipice, and falling on his feet, was seen leaping with 
a single bound into the centre of a thicket of low 
bushes which clung along its sides. The Delawares, 
who had believed their enemy dead, uttered their excla- 
5 mation of surprise, and were following with speed and 
clamor, like hounds in open view of the deer, when a 
shrill and peculiar cry from the scout, instantly changed 
their purpose and recalled them to the summit of the 
hill. 

10 “ ’Twas like himself! ” cried the inveterate forester, 

whose prejudices contributed so largely to veil his 
natural sense of justice in all matters which concerned 
the Mingos; “ a lying and deceitful varlet as he is ! An 
honest Delaware now, being fairly vanquished, would 
15 have lain still and been knocked on the head, but these 
knavish Maquas cling to life like so many cats-o’-the- 
mountain. Let him go — let him go; ’tis but one man, 
and he without rifle or bow, many a long mile from his 
French commerades ; and, like a rattler that has lost his 
20 fangs, he can do no farther mischief, until such time as 
he, and we too, may leave the prints of our moccasins 
over a long reach of sandy plain. See, Uncas,” he added, 
in Delaware, “ your father is flaying the scalps already! 
It may be well to go round and feel the vagabonds that 
25 are left, or we may have another of them loping through 
the woods, and screeching like a jay that. has been 
winged ! ” 

So saying, the honest, but implacable scout, made the 
circuit of the dead, into whose senseless bosoms he thrust 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


215 


his long knife, with as much coolness as though they had 
been so many brute carcasses. He had, however, been 
anticipated by the elder Mohican, who had already torn 
the emblems of victory from the unresisting heads of 
the slain. 

But Uncas, denying his habits, we had almost said his 
nature, flew with instinctive delicacy, accompanied by 
Heyward, to the assistance of the sisters, and quickly 
releasing Alice placed her in the arms of Cora. We shall 
not attempt to describe the gratitude to the Almighty 
Disposer of events which glowed in the bosoms of the 
lovely maidens, who were thus unexpectedly restored to 
life, and to each other. Their thanksgivings were deep 
and silent; the offerings of their gentle spirits burning 
brightest and purest on the secret altars of their hearts; 
and their renovated and more earthly feelings exhibiting 
themselves in long and fervent, though speechless ca¬ 
resses. As Alice arose from her knees, where she had 
sunk, by the side of Cora, she threw herself on the bosom 
of the latter and sobbed aloud the name of their aged 
father, while her soft, dove-like eyes, sparkled with the 
rays of hope. 

“ We are saved ! we are saved ! ” she murmured ; “to 
return to the arms of our dear, dear father, and his heart 
will not be broken with grief! And you too, Cora, my 
sister; my more than sister, my mother; you too are 
spared ! and Duncan,” she added, looking round upon the 
youth, with a smile of ineffable innocence, “ even our own 
brave and noble Duncan has escaped without a hurt ! ” 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


To these ardent and nearly incoherent words, Cora 
made no other answer than by straining the youthful 
speaker to her heart, as she bent over her, in melting 
tenderness. The manhood of Heyward felt no shame in 
5 dropping tears over this spectacle of affectionate rapture; 
and Uncas stood, fresh and blood-stained from the com¬ 
bat, a calm, and apparently an unmoved looker-on, it is 
true, but with eyes that had already lost their fierceness, 
and were beaming with a sympathy that elevated him 
10 far above the intelligence, and advanced him probably 
centuries before the practices, of his nation. 

During this display of emotion so natural in their sit¬ 
uation, Hawkeye, whose vigilant distrust had satisfied 
itself that the Hurons, who disfigured the heavenly 
15 scene, no longer possessed the power to interrupt its har¬ 
mony, approached David and liberated him from the 
bonds he had, until that moment, endured with the most 
exemplary patience. 

“ There ,” exclaimed the scout, casting the last withe 
20 behind him, “ you are once more master of your own 
limbs, though you seem not to use them with much 
greater judgment than that in which they were first 
fashioned. If advice from one who is not older than 
yourself, but who, having lived most of his time in the 
25 wilderness, may be said to have experience beyond his 
years, will give no offence, you are welcome to my 
thoughts; and these are, to part with the little tooting 
instrument in your jacket to the first fool you meet with, 
and buy some useful we’pon with the money, if it be 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


217 


only the barrel of a horseman’s pistol. By industry and 
care you might thus come to some prefarment; for by 
this time I should think yqur eyes would plainly tell 
you that a carrion crow is a better bird than a mocking 
thresher. The one will, at least, remove foul sights 
from before the face of man, while the other is only good 
to brew disturbances in the woods by cheating the ears 
of all that hear them.” 

“ Arms and the clarion for the battle, but the song of 
thanksgiving to the victory ! ” answered the liberated 
David. “ Friend,” he added, thrusting forth his lean, 
delicate hand toward Hawkeye in kindness, while his 
eyes twinkled and grew moist, “I thank thee that the 
hairs of my head still grow where they were first rooted 
by Providence; for, though those of other men may be 
more glossy and curling, I have ever found mine own 
well suited to the brain they shelter. That I did not 
join myself to the battle was less owing to disinclination 
than to the bonds of the heathen. Valiant and skilful 
hast thou proved thyself in the conflict, and I hereby 
thank thee, before proceeding to discharge other and 
more important duties, because thou hast proved thyself 
well worthy of a Christian’s praise ! ” 

“ The thing is but a trifle, and what you may often see, 
if you tarry long among us,” returned the scout, a good 
deal softened toward the man of song by this unequiv¬ 
ocal expression of his gratitude. “ I have got back my 
old companion, ‘ Kill-deer,’ ” he added, striking his hand 
on the breech of his rifle; “ and that in itself is a vie- 


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218 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


tory. These Iroquois are cunning, but they outwitted 
themselves when they placed their fire-arms out of reach ; 
and had Uncas or his father been gifted with only their 
common Indian patience, we should have come in upon 
5 the knaves with three bullets instead of one, and that 
would have made a finish of the whole pack ; yon lop¬ 
ing varlet, as well as his commerades. But ’twas all 
foreordered and for the best! ” 

“ Thou sayest well,” returned David, “ and hast 
10 caught the true spirit of Christianity. He that is to 
be saved will be saved, and he that is predestined to 
be damned will be damned ! This is the doctrine of 
truth, and most consoling and refreshing it is to the 
true believer.” 

15 The scout, who by this time was seated, examining 
into the state of his rifle with a species of parental as¬ 
siduity, now looked up at the other in a displeasure that 
he did not affect to conceal, roughly interrupting further 
speech. 

20 “ Doctrine, or no doctrine,” said the sturdy woods¬ 

man, “ ’tis the belief of knaves and the curse of an hon¬ 
est man ! I can credit that yonder Huron was to fall 
by my hand, for with my own eyes I have seen it; but 
nothing short of being a witness will cause me to think 
25 he has met with any reward, or that Chkigachgook, there, 
will be condemned at the final day.” 

“You have no warranty for such an audacious doc¬ 
trine, nor any covenant to support it,” cried David, who 
was deeply tinctured with the subtle distinctions, which, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


219 


in his time, and more especially in his province, had been 
drawn around the beautiful simplicity of revelation by 
endeavoring to penetrate the awful mystery of the divine 
nature, supplying faith by self-sufficiency, and by conse¬ 
quence involving those who reasoned from such human 
dogmas in absurdities and doubt; “your temple is reared 
on the sands, and the first tempest will wash away its 
foundation. I demand your authorities for such an un¬ 
charitable assertion. Like other advocates of a system, 
David was not always accurate in his use of terms. 
Name chapter and verse; in which of the holy books do 
you find language to support you ? ” 

“ Book! ” repeated Hawkeye, with singular and ill- 
concealed disdain; “ do you take me for a whimpering 
boy, at the apron string of one of your old gals ; and 
this good rifle on my knee for the feather of a goose’s 
wing, my ox’s horn for a bottle of ink, and my leathern 
pouch for a cross-barred handkercher to carry my dinner ! 
Book ! what have such as I, who am a warrior of the 
wilderness, though a man without a cross, to do with 
books ! I never read but in one, and the words that are 
written there are too simple and too plain to need much 
schooling; though I may boast that of forty long and 
hard-working years.” 

“ What call you the volume ? ” said David, misconceiv¬ 
ing the other’s meaning. 

“ ’Tis open before your eyes,” returned the scout; 
“ and he who owns it is not a niggard of its use. I have 
heard it said that there are men who read in books, to 


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220 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


convince themselves there is a God! I know not but 
man may so deform his works in the settlements as to 
leave that which is so clear in the wilderness, a matter 
of doubt among traders and priests. If any such there 
5 be, and he will follow me from sun to sun through the 
windings of the forest, he shall see enough to teach him 
that he is a fool, and that the greatest of his folly lies 
in striving to rise to the level of one he can never equal, 
be it in goodness or be it in power.’’ 

10 The instant David discovered that he battled with a 
disputant who imbibed his faith from the lights of na¬ 
ture, eschewing all subtleties of doctrine, he willingly 
abandoned a controversy from which he believed neither 
profit nor credit was to be derived. While the scout 
15 was speaking, he had also seated himself, and producing 
the ready little volume and the iron-rimmed spectacles, 
he prepared to discharge a duty which nothing but the 
unexpected assault he had received in his orthodoxy, 
could have so long suspended. He was, in truth, a min- 
20 strel of the western continent, of a much later day, cer¬ 
tainly, than those gifted bards who formerly sang the 
profane renown of baron and prince, but after the spirit 
of his own age and country ; and he was now prepared 
to exercise the cunning of his craft in celebration of, or 
25 rather in thanksgiving for, the recent victory. He 
waited patiently for Hawkeye to cease; then, lifting his 
eyes, together with his voice, he said, aloud: 

“ I invite you, friends, to join in praise for this signal 
deliverance from the hands of barbarians and infidels. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 221 

to the comfortable and solemn tones of the tune called 
1 Northampton/ ” 

He next named the page and verse where the rhymes 
he had selected were to be found, and applied the pitch- 
pipe to his lips, with the decent gravit}^ that he had been 
wont to use in the temple. This time he was, however, 
without any accompaniment, for the sisters were just 
then pouring out those tender effusions of affection, which 
have been already alluded to. Nothing deterred by the 
smallness of his audience, which, in truth, consisted only 
of the discontented scout, he raised his voice, commen¬ 
cing and ending the sacred song, without accident or 
interruption of any kind. 

Hawkeye listened, while he coolly adjusted his flint 
and reloaded his rifle, but the sounds wanting the extra¬ 
neous assistance of scene and sympathy, failed to awaken 
his slumbering emotions. Never minstrel, or by what¬ 
ever more suitable name David should be known, drew 
upon his talents in the presence of more insensible audi¬ 
tors ; though considering the singleness and sincerity of 
his motive, it is probable that no bard of profane song 
ever uttered notes that ascended so near to that throne 
where all homage and praise is due. The scout shook 
his head, and muttering some unintelligible words, among 
which “ throat ” and “ Iroquois ” were alone audible, he 
walked away, to collect and to examine into the state of 
the captured arsenal of the Hurons. In this office he 
was now joined by Chingachgook, who found his own, as 
well as the rifle of his son, among the arms. Even Hey- 


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222 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


ward and David were furnished with weapons, nor was 
ammunition wanting to render them all effectual. 

When the foresters had made their selection and dis¬ 
tributed their prizes, the scout announced that the hour 
5 had arrived when it was necessary to move. By this 
time the song of Gamut had ceased, and the sisters had 
learned to still the exhibition of their emotions. Aided 
by Duncan and the younger Mohican, the two latter de¬ 
scended the precipitous sides of that hill which they had 
10 so lately ascended under such very different auspices, 
and whose summit had so nearly proved the scene of 
their massacre. At the foot they found their Narragan- 
setts browsing the herbage of the bushes, and having 
mounted, they followed the movements of a guide, who, 
15 in the most deadly straits, had so often proved himself 
their friend. The journey was, however, short. Hawk- 
eye, leaving the blind path that the Hurons had followed, 
turned short to his right; and, entering the thicket, he 
crossed a babbling brook, and halted in a narrow dell, 
20 under the shade of a few water elms. Their distance 
from the base of the fatal hill was but a few rods, and 
the steeds had been serviceable only in crossing the shal¬ 
low stream. 

The scout and the Indians* appeared to be familiar with 
25 the sequestered place where they now were ; for, leaning 
their rifles against the trees, they commenced throwing 
aside the dried leaves and opening the blue clay, out of 
which a clear and sparkling spring of bright, glancing 
water quickly bubbled. The white man then looked 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


223 


about him, as though seeking for some object which was 
not to be found as readily as he expected. 

“Them careless imps, the Mohawks, with their Tus- 
carora and Onondaga brethren, have been here slaking 
their thirst,” he muttered, “and the vagabonds have 5 
thrown away the gourd ! This is the way with benefits, 
when they are bestowed on such disremembering hounds! 
Here has the Lord laid his hand, in the midst of the 
howling wilderness, for their good, and raised a fountain 
of water from the bowels of the ’arth, that might laugh ic 
at the richest shop of apothecary’s ware in all the colo¬ 
nies ; and see! the knaves have trodden in the clay and 
deformed the cleanliness of the place, as though they 
were brute beasts instead of human men ! ” 

Uncas silently extended towards him the desired 15 
gourd, which the spleen of Hawkeye had hitherto pre¬ 
vented him from observing suspended on a branch of 
an elm. Filling it with water, he retired a short dis¬ 
tance to a place where the ground was more firm and 
dry : here he coolly seated himself, and after taking a 20 
long, and, apparently, a grateful draught, he commenced 
a very strict examination of the fragments of food left 
by the Hurons, which had hung in a wallet on his 
arm. 

“ Thank you, lad,” he continued, returning the empty 25 
gourd to Uncas ; “ now we will see how these rampaging 
Hurons lived, when outlying in ambushments. Look 
at this ! The varlets know the better pieces of the deer, 
and one would think they might carve and roast a sad- 


£24 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


die equal to the best cook in the land ! But everything 
is raw, for the Iroquois are thorough savages. Uncas, 
take my steel and kindle a fire; a mouthful of a tender 
broil will give natur’ a helping hand after so long a 
5 trail.” 

Heyward, perceiving that their guides now set about 
their repast in sober earnest, assisted the maidens to 
alight, and placed himself at their side, not unwilling to 
enjoy a few moments of grateful rest, after the bloody 
10 scene he had just gone through. While the culinary 
process was in hand, curiosity induced him to inquire 
into the circumstances which had led to their timely 
and unexpected rescue. 

“How is it that we see you so soon, my generous 
15 friend,” he asked, “ and without aid from the garrison 
of Edward ? ” 

“ Had we gone to the bend in the river, we might 
have been in time to rake the leaves over your bodies, 
but too late to have saved your scalps,” coolly answered 
20 the scout. “ Ho, no ; instead of throwing away strength 
and opportunity by crossing to the fort, we lay by 
under the bank of the Hudson, waiting to watch the 
movements of the Hurons.” 

“ You, then, were witnesses of all that passed ! ” 

25 “Hot of all; for Indian sight is too keen to be easily 
cheated, and we kept close. A difficult matter it was, 
too, to keep this Mohican boy snug in the ambushment! 
Ah! Uncas, Uncas, your behavior was more like that 
of a curious woman, than of a warrior on his scent! ” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


225 


Uncas permitted his eyes to turn for an instant on 
the sturdy countenance of the speaker, but he neither 
spoke nor gave any indication of repentance for his er¬ 
ror. On the contrary, Heyward thought the manner of 
the young Mohican was disdainful, if not a little fierce, 5 
and that he suppressed passions that were ready to ex¬ 
plode, as much in compliment to the listeners as from 
the deference he usually paid to his white associate. 

“ You saw our capture ? ” Heyward next demanded. 

“ We heard it,” was the significant answer. “ An 10 
Indian yell is plain language to men who have passed 
their days in the woods. But when you landed, we 
were driven to crawl, like serpents, beneath the leaves; 
and then we lost sight of you entirely, until we placed 
eyes on you again trussed to the trees, and ready bound is 
for an Indian massacre.” 

il Our rescue was the deed of Providence! It was 
nearly a miracle that you did not mistake the path, for 
the Hurons divided, and each band had its horses.” 

“ Ay ! there we were thrown off the scent, and might, 30 
indeed, have lost the trail, had it not been for Uncas. 
We took the path, however, that led into the wilder¬ 
ness ; for we judged, and judged rightly, that the 
savages would hold that course with their prisoners. 
But when we had followed it for many miles without 25 
finding a single twig broken, as I had advised, my mind 
misgave me; especially as all the footsteps had the 
prints of moccasins.” 

“ Our captors had the precaution to see us shod like 


226 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


themselves, : ” said Duncan, raising a foot, and exhibiting 
the buckskin he wore. 

“ Ay ! ’twas judgmatical, and like themselves; though 
we were too ex part to be thrown from a trail by so 
5 common an invention.” 

“ To what, then, are we indebted for our safety ? 99 
“ To what, as a white man who has no taint of Indian 
blood, I should be ashamed to own ; to the judgment of 
the young Mohican, in matters which I should know 
10 better than he, but which I can now hardly believe to 
be true, though my own eyes tell me that it is so . 99 
“ ? Tis extraordinary ! will you not name the reason ? ” 
“ Uncas was bold enough to say that the beasts ridden 
by the gentle ones,” continued Hawkeye, glancing his 
15 eyes, not without curious interest on the sorrel fillies of 
the ladies, “ planted the legs of one side on the ground 
at the same time, which is contrary to the movements 
of all trotting four-footed animals of my knowledge 
except the bear. And yet here are horses that always 
20 journey in this manner, as my own eyes have seen, and 
as their trail has shown for twenty long miles ! ” 

“ J Tis the merit of the animal. They come from the 
shores of Narragansett Bay, in the small province of 
Providence Plantations, and are celebrated for their 
25 hardihood, and the ease of. this peculiar movement; 
though other horses are not unfrequently trained to the 
same . 99 

“ It may be — it may be , 99 said Hawkeye, who had 
listened with singular attention to this explanation; 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


227 


“ though I am a man who has the full blood of the 
whites, my judgment in deer and beaver is greater than 
in beasts of burthen. Major Effingham has many noble 
chargers, but I have never seen one travel after such a 
sidelong gait.” 

“ True, for he would value the animals for very dif¬ 
ferent properties. Still is this a breed highly esteemed, 
and as you witness, much honored with the burdens it 
is often destined to bear. ” 

The Mohicans had suspended their operations about 
the glimmering fire to listen, and when Duncan had 
done, they looked at each other significantly, the father 
uttering the never-failing exclamation of surprise. The 
scout ruminated, like a man digesting his newly ac¬ 
quired knowledge, and once more stole a curious glance 
at the horses. 

“ I dare to say there are even stranger sights to be 
seen in the settlements,” he said, at length; “ natur’ is 
sadly abused by man, when he once gets the mastery. 
But, go sidelong, or go straight, Uncas had seen the 
movement, and their trail led us on to the broken bush. 
The outer branch, near the prints of one of the horses, 
was bent upward, as a lady breaks a flower from its 
stem, but all the rest were ragged and broken down, 
as if the strong hand of a man had been tearing them. 
So I concluded, that the cunning varmints had seen 
the twig bent, and had torn the rest, to make us be¬ 
lieve a buck had been feeling the boughs* with his ant¬ 
lers.” 


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JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


“ I do believe your sagacity did not deceive you; foi 
some such thing occurred.” 

“ That was easy to see,” added the scout, in no degree 
conscious of having exhibited any extraordinary saga- 
5 city ; “ and a very different matter it was from a wad¬ 
dling horse ! It then struck me the Mingos would push 
for this spring, for the knaves well know the vartue of 
its waters.” 

“ Is it, then, so famous ? ” demanded Heyward, exam- 
10 ining, with a more curious eye, the secluded dell, with 
its bubbling fountain, surrounded, as it was, by earth of 
a deep dingy brown. 

“ Few redskins who travel south and east of the great 
lakes but have heard of its qualities. Will you taste 
15 for yourself ? ” 

Heyward took the gourd, and after swallowing a little 
of the water, threw it aside with grimaces of discontent. 
The scout laughed in his silent, but heartfelt manner, 
and shook his head with vast satisfaction. 

20 “Ah ! you want the flavor that one gets by habit; the 
time was when I liked it as little as yourself; but I 
have come to my taste, and I now crave it, as a deer 
does the licks. Your high-spiced wines are not better 
liked than a redskin relishes this water; especially when 
25 his natur’ is ailing. But Uncas has made his fire, and it 
is time we think of eating) for our journey is long and 
all before us.” 

Interrupting the dialogue by this abrupt transition, 
the scout had instant recourse to the fragments of food 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


229 


which had escaped the voracity of the Hurons. A very 
summary process completed the simple cookery, when he 
and the Mohicans commenced their humble meal, with 
the silence and characteristic diligence of men who ate 
in order to enable themselves to endure great and unre- 5 
mitting toil. 

When this necessary, and, happily, grateful duty had 
been performed, each of the foresters stooped and took 
a long and parting draught at that solitary and silent 
spring, around which and its sister fountains, within 10 
fifty years, the wealth, beauty, and talents of a hemi¬ 
sphere, were to assemble in such throngs, in pursuit of 
health and pleasure. Then Hawkeye announced his 
determination to proceed. The sisters resumed their 
saddles; Duncan and David grasped their rifles and fol -15 
lowed on their footsteps; the scout leading the advance 
and the Mohicans bringing up the rear. The whole 
party moved swiftly through the narrow path, towards 
the north, leaving the healing waters to mingle unheeded 
with the adjacent brook, and the bodies of the dead to 20 
fester on the neighboring mount without the rites of 
sepulture ; a fate but too common to the warriors of the 
woods to excite either commiseration or comment. 


230 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER . 


CHAPTER XIII. 

I’ll seek a readier path. 

Parnell, A Night-Piece on Death. 

The route taken by Hawkeye lay across those sandy 
plains, relieved by occasional valleys and swells of land, 
which had been traversed by their party on the morning 
of the same day, with the baffled Magua for their guide. 
5 The sun had now fallen low towards the distant moun¬ 
tains, and as their journey lay through the interminable 
forest, the heat was no longer oppressive. Their prog¬ 
ress, in consequence, was proportionate; and long before 
the twilight gathered about them, they had made good 
10 many toilsome miles, on their return path. 

The hunter, like the savage whose place he filled, 
seemed to select among the blind signs of their wild 
route with a species of instinct, seldom abating his 
speed, and never pausing to deliberate. A rapid and 
15 oblique glance at the moss on the trees, with an occa¬ 
sional upward gaze toward the setting sun, or a steady 
but passing look at the direction of the numerous water 
courses through which he waded, were sufficient to de¬ 
termine his path and remove his greatest difficulties. 
20 In the meantime the forest began to change its hues, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


231 


losing that lively green which had embellished its 
arches, in the graver light, which is the usual precursor 
of the close of day. 

While the eyes of the sisters were endeavoring to 
catch glimpses through the trees of the flood of golden 5 
glory, which formed a glittering halo around the sun, 
tingeing here and there with ruby streaks, or bordering 
with narrow edgings of shining yellow, a mass of clouds 
that lay piled at no great distance above the western 
hills, Hawkeye turned suddenly, and, pointing upward 10 
towards the gorgeous heavens, he spoke. 

“ Yonder is the signal given to man to seek his food 
and natural rest,” he said; “ better and wiser would it 
be, if he could understand the signs of nature, and take 
a lesson from the fowls of the air, and the beasts of the 15 
fields! Our night, however, will soon be over, for, with 
the moon, we must be up and moving again. I remem¬ 
ber to have fou’t the Maquas hereaways, in the first war 
in which I ever drew blood from man; and we threw up 
a work of blocks, to keep the ravenous varmints from 20 
handling our scalps. If my marks do not fail me, we 
shall find the place a few rods further to our left.” 

Without waiting for an assent, or, indeed, for any 
reply, the sturdy hunter moved boldly into a dense 
thicket of young chestnuts, shoving aside the branches 25 
of the exuberant shoots which nearly covered the ground, 
like a man who expected at each step to discover some 
object he had formerly known. The recollection of the 
scout did not deceive him. After penetrating through 


232 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


the brush, matted as it was with briars, for a few hun¬ 
dred feet, he entered into an open space that surrounded 
a low, green hillock, which was crowned by the decayed 
block-house in question. This rude and neglected build- 
5 ing was one of those deserted works which, having been 
thrown up on an emergency, had been abandoned with 
the disappearance of danger, and was now quietly 
crumbling in the solitude of the forest, neglected, and 
nearly forgotten, like the circumstances which had 
10 caused it to be reared. Such memorials of the passage 
and struggles of man are yet frequent throughout the 
broad barrier of wilderness, which once separated the 
hostile provinces, and form a species of ruins, that are 
intimately associated with the recollections of colonial 
15 history, and which are in appropriate keeping with the 
gloomy character of the surrounding scenery. The roof 
of bark had long since fallen and mingled with the soil; 
but the huge logs of pine, which had been hastily thrown 
together, still preserved their relative positions, though 
20 one angle of the work had given way under the pressure, 
and threatened a speedy downfall to the remainder of 
the rustic edifice. While 'Heyward and his companions 
hesitated to approach a building so decayed, Hawkeye 
and the Indians entered within the low walls, not only 
25 without fear, but with obvious interest. While the 
former surveyed the ruins, both internally and exter¬ 
nally, with the curiosity of one whose recollections were 
reviving at each moment, Chingachgook related to his 
son, in the language of the Delawares, and with the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


233 


pride of a conqueror, the brief history of the skirmish 
which had been fought in his youth in that secluded 
spot. A strain of melancholy, however, blended with 
his triumph, rendering his voice, as usual, soft and 
musical. 5 

In the meantime the sisters gladly dismounted and 
prepared to enjoy their halt in the coolness of the even¬ 
ing, and in a security which they believed nothing but 
the beasts of the forest could invade. 

“ Would not our resting-place have been more retired, 10 
my worthy friend/’ demanded the more vigilant Duncan, 
perceiving that the scout had already finished his short 
survey, “ had we chosen a spot less known and one more 
rarely visited than this ? ” 

“ Few live who know the block-house was ever raised,” 15 
was the slow and musing answer; “ ’tis not often that 
books are made and narratives written of such a skrim- 
mage as was here fou’t atween the Mohicans and the 
Mohawks, in a war of their own waging. I was then 
a younker, and went out with the Delawares, because 20 
I know’d they were a scandalized and wronged race. 
Forty days and forty nights did the imps crave our 
blood around this pile of logs, which I designed and 
partly reared, being, as you’ll remember, no Indian my¬ 
self, but a man without a cross. The Delawares lent 25 
themselves to the work, and we made it good ten to 
twenty, until our numbers were nearly equal, and then 
we sallied out upon the hounds, and not a man of them 
ever got back to tell the fate of his party. Yes, yes; I 


234 


JAMES F2N1M0RE COOPER. 


was then young, and new to the sight of blood, and not 
relishing the thought that creatures who had spirits like 
myself, should lay on the naked ground, to be torn 
asunder by beasts, or to bleach in the rains, I buried 
5 the dead with my own hands, under that very little hil¬ 
lock, where you have placed yourselves; and no bad 
seat does it make either, though it be raised by the 
bones of mortal men.” 

Heyward and the sisters arose on the instant from 
10 the grassy sepulchre; nor could the two latter, notwith¬ 
standing the terrific scenes they had so recently passed 
through, entirely suppress an emotion of natural horror, 
when they found themselves in such familiar contact 
with the grave of the dead Mohawks. The gray light, 
15 the gloomy little area of dark grass, surrounded by its 
border of brush, beyond which the pines rose in breath¬ 
ing silence, apparently into the very clouds, and the 
death-like stillness of the vast forest, were all in unison 
to deepen such a sensation. 

20 “They are gone and they are harmless,” continued 
Hawkeye, waving his hand, with a melancholy smile, 
at their manifest alarm; “ they’ll never shout the war- 
whoop, nor strike a blow with the tomahawk, again! 
And of all those who aided in placing them where they 
25 lie, Chingachgook and I only are living! The brothers 
and family of the Mohican formed our war party, and 
you see before you all that are now left of his race.” 

The eyes of the listeners involuntarily sought the 
forms of the Indians, with a compassionate interest in 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


235 


their desolate fortune. Their dark persons were still to 
be seen within the shadows of the block-house, the son 
listening to the relation of his father with that sort of 
intenseness, which would be created by a narrative that 
redounded so much to the honor of those, whose names he 
had long revered for their courage and savage virtues. 

“ I had thought the Delawares a pacific people,” said 
Duncan, “ and that they never waged war in person ; 
trusting the defence of their lands to those very Mo¬ 
hawks that you slew.” 

“ ’Tis true in part,” returned the scout, “ and yet, at 
the bottom, Tis a wicked lie. Such a treaty was made 
in ages gone by, through the deviltries of the Dutchers, 
who wished to disarm the natives that had the best 
right to the country where they had settled themselves. 
The Mohicans, though a part of the same nation, having 
to deal with the English, never entered into the silly 
bargain, but kept to their manhood; as in truth did the 
Delawares, when their eyes were opened to their folly. 
You see before you, a chief of the great Mohican Saga¬ 
mores ! Once his family could chase their deer over 
tracts of country wider than that which belongs to the 
Albany Patteroon, without crossing brook or hill, that 
was not their own ; but what is left to their descendant ? 
He may find his six feet of earth, when God chooses; 
and keep it in peace, perhaps, if he has a friend who 
will take the pains to sink his head so low that the 
ploughshares cannot reach it! ” 

“Enough !” said Heyward, apprehensive that the sub- 


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236 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


ject might lead to a discussion that would interrupt the 
harmony so necessary to the preservation of his fair 
companions; we have journeyed far, and few among 
us are blest with forms like that of yours, which seems 
5 to know neither fatigue nor weakness.” 

“ The sinews and bones of a man carry me through it 
all,” said the hunter, surveying his muscular limbs with 
a simplicity that betrayed the honest pleasure the com¬ 
pliment afforded him ; “ there are larger and heavier 
10 men to be found in the settlements, but you might 
travel many days in a city before you could meet one 
able to walk fifty miles without stopping to take breath, 
or who has kept the hounds within hearing during a 
chase of hours. However, as flesh and blood are not 
15 always the same, it is quite reasonable to suppose that 
the gentle ones are willing to rest after all they have 
seen and done this day. Uncas, clear out the spring, 
while your father and I make a cover for their tender 
heads of these chestnut shoots, and a bed of grass and 
20 leaves.” 

The dialogue ceased, while the hunter and his com¬ 
panions busied themselves in preparations for the comfort 
and protection of those they guided. A spring, which 
many long years before had induced the natives to 
25 select the place for their temporary fortification, was 
soon cleared of leaves, and a fountain of crystal gushed 
from the bed, diffusing its waters over the verdant hil¬ 
lock. A corner of the building was then roofed in such 
a manner as to exclude the heavy dew of the climate, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


237 


and piles of sweet shrubs and dried leaves were laid be¬ 
neath it, for the sisters to repose on. 

While the diligent woodsmen were employed in this 
manner, Cora and Alice partook of that refreshment 
which duty required, much more than inclination 5 
prompted, them to accept. They then retired within 
the walls, and first offering up their thanksgivings for 
past mercies, and petitioning for a continuance of the 
Divine favor throughout the coming night, they laid 
their tender forms on the fragrant couch, and in spite of 10 
recollections and forebodings, soon sank into those slum¬ 
bers which nature so imperiously demanded, and which 
were sweetened by hopes for the morrow. Duncan had 
prepared himself to pass the night in watchfulness, near 
them, just without the ruin; but the scout, perceiving 15 
his intention, pointed towards Chingachgook, as he 
coolly disposed his own person on the grass, and said : 

“ The eyes of a white man are too heavy and too blind 
for such a watch as this ! The Mohican will be our sen¬ 
tinel ; therefore, let us sleep.” 20 

“ I proved myself a sluggard on my post during the 
past night,” said Heyward, “and have less need of re¬ 
pose than you, who did more credit to the character of 
a soldier. Let all the party seek their rest, then, while 
I hold the guard.” 25 

“ If we lay among the white tents of the 60th, and in 
front of an enemy like the French, I could not ask for 
a better watchman,” returned the scout; “ but in the 
darkness, and among the signs of the wilderness, your 


288 


JAMES FENIMOEE COOPER. 


judgment would be like the folly of a child, and youi 
vigilance thrown away. Do, then, like Uncas and my¬ 
self, sleep, and sleep in safety.” 

Heyward perceived, in truth, that the younger Indian 
5 had thrown his form on the side of the hillock, while 
they were talking, like one who sought to make the 
most of the time allotted to rest, and that his example 
had been followed by David, whose voice literally “ clove 
to his jaws,” with the fever of his wound, heightened, as 
10 it was, by their toilsome march. Unwilling to prolong a 
useless discussion, the young man affected to comply, by 
posting his back against the logs of the block-house in 
a half-recumbent posture, though resolutely determined 
in his own mind, not to close an eye until he had deliv- 
15 ered his precious charge into the arms of Munro himself. 
Hawkeye, believing he had prevailed, soon fell asleep, 
and a silence as deep as the solitude in which they had 
found it pervaded the retired spot. 

For many minutes Duncan succeeded in keeping his 
20 senses on the alert, and alive to every moaning sound 
that arose from the forest. His vision became more 
acute as the shades of evening settled on the place, and 
even after the stars were glimmering above his head he 
was able to distinguish the recumbent forms of his com- 
25 panions, as they lay stretched on the grass, and to note 
the person of Chingachgook, who sat upright and motion¬ 
less as one of the trees, which formed the dark barrier on 
every side of them. He still heard the gentle breathings 
of the sisters, who lay within a few feet of him, and not 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


239 


a leaf was ruffled by the passing air of which his ear 
did not detect the whispering sound. At length, how¬ 
ever, the mournful notes of the whippoorwill, became 
blended with the moanings of an owl; his heavy eyes 
occasionally sought the bright rays of the stars, and 
then he fancied he saw them through the fallen lids. 
At instants of momentary wakefulness, he mistook a 
bush for his associate sentinel; his head next sank upon 
his shoulder, which, in its turn, sought the support of 
the ground; and, finally, his whole person became relaxed 
and pliant, and the young man sank into a deep sleep, 
dreaming that he was a knight of ancient chivalry, hold¬ 
ing his midnight vigils before the tent of a re-captured 
princess, whose favor he did not despair of gaining by 
such a proof of devotion and watchfulness. 

How long the tired Duncan lay in this insensible state 
he never knew himself, but his slumbering visions had 
been long lost in total forgetfulness, when he was awa¬ 
kened by a light tap on the shoulder. Aroused by this 
signal, slight as it was, he sprang upon his feet, with a 
confused recollection of the self-imposed duty he had 
assumed with the commencement of the night — 

“ Who comes ? ” he demanded, feeling for his sword, 
at the place where it was usually suspended. “ Speak! 
friend or enemy ? ” 

“ Friend,” replied the low voice of Chingachgook; 
who, pointing upward at the luminary which was shed¬ 
ding its mild light through the opening in the trees 
directly on their bivouac, immediately added, in his rude 


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240 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


English, “ moon comes, and white man’s fort far — far 
off; time to move, when sleep shuts both eyes of the 
Frenchman.” 

“You say true; call up your friends, and bridle the 
j horses, while I prepare my own companions for the 
march.” 

“ We are awake Duncan,” said the soft, silvery tones 
of Alice within the building, “ and ready to travel very 
fast, after so refreshing a sleep; but you have watched 
10 through the tedious night, in our behalf, after having 
endured so much fatigue the livelong day ! ” 

“ Say, rather, I would have watched, but my treacher¬ 
ous eyes betrayed me; twice have I proved myself unfit 
for the trust I bear.” 

15 “Nay, Duncan, deny it not,” interrupted the smiling 
Alice, issuing from the shadows of the building into the 
light of the moon, in all the loveliness of her freshened 
beauty; “ I know you to be a heedless one, when self is 
the object of your care, and but too vigilant in favor of 
20 others. Can we not tarry here a little longer, while you 
find the rest you need ? Cheerfully, most cheerfully, 
will Cora and I keep the vigils, while you and all these 
brave men endeavor to snatch a little sleep.” 

“ If shame could cure me of my drowsiness, I should 
25 never close an eye again,” said the uneasy youth, gazing 
at the ingenuous countenance of Alice, where, however, 
in its sweet solicitude, he read nothing to confirm his 
half-awakened suspicion. “ It is but too true, that after 
leading you into danger by my heedlessness, I have not 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


241 


even the merit of guarding your pillows as should 
become a soldier.” 

“No one but Duncan himself should accuse Duncan 
of such a weakness ! Go, then, and sleep ; believe me, 
neither of us, weak girls as we are, will betray our 
watch.” 

The young man was relieved from the awkwardness 
of making any further protestations of his own demerits, 
by an exclamation from Chingachgook, and the attitude 
of riveted attention assumed by his son. 

“ The Mohicans hear an enemy! ” whispered Hawk- 
eye, who, by this time, in common with the whole party, 
was awake and stirring. “ They scent danger in the 
wind! ” 

“ God forbid ! ” exclaimed Heyward. “ Surely, we 
have had enough of bloodshed! ” 

While he spoke, however, the young soldier seized 
his rifle, and advancing towards the front, prepared to 
atone for his venial remissness, by freely exposing his 
life in defence of those he attended. 

“ ’Tis some creature of the forest prowling around us 
in quest of food,” he said, in a whisper, as soon as the 
low, and apparently distant sounds which had startled 
the Mohicans, reached his own ears. 

“ Hist! ” returned the attentive scout: “ ’tis man; 
even I can now tell his tread, poor as my senses are, 
when compared to an Indian’s. That scampering Huron 
has fallen in with one of Montcalm’s outlying parties, 
and they have struck upon our trail. I shouldn’t like 


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20 

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242 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


myself to spill more human blood in this spot,” he 
added, looking around with anxiety in his features at 
the dim objects by which he was surrounded; “but 
what must be, must. Lead the horses into the block- 
5 house, Uncas; and, friends, do you follow to the same 
shelter. Poor and old as it is, it offers a cover, and has 
rung with the crack of a rifle afore to-night! ” 

He was instantly obeyed, the Mohicans leading the 
Narragansetts within the ruin, whither the whole party 
10 repaired with the most guarded silence. 

The sounds of approaching footsteps was now too dis¬ 
tinctly audible, to leave any doubts as to the nature of 
the interruption. They were soon mingled with voices, 
calling to each other in an Indian dialect, which the 
15 hunter, in a whisper, affirmed to Heyward, was the lan¬ 
guage of the Hurons. When the party reached the 
point where the horses had entered the thicket which 
surrounded the block-house, they were evidently at fault, 
having lost those marks which, until that moment, had 
20 directed their pursuit. 

It would seem by the voices that twenty men were 
soon collected at that one spot, mingling their different 
opinions and advice in noisy clamor. 

“ The knaves know our weakness,” whispered Hawk- 
25 eye, who stood by the side of Heyward, in deep shade, 
looking through an opening in the logs, “ or they 
wouldn’t indulge their idleness in such a squaw’s march. 
Listen to the reptiles! each man among them seems to 
have two tongues, and but a single leg! ” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


243 


Duncan, brave as he was- in the combat, could not, in 
such a moment of painful suspense, make any reply to 
the cool and characteristic remark of the scout. He 
only grasped his rifle more firmly, and fastened his eyes 
upon the narrow opening, through which he gazed upon 5 
the moonlight view with increasing anxiety. The deeper 
tones of one who spoke as having authority, were next 
heard amid a silence that denoted the respect with which 
his orders, or rather advice, was received. After which, 
by the rustling of leaves and cracking of dried twigs, it 1C 
was apparent the savages were separating in pursuit of 
the lost trail. Fortunately for the pursued the light of 
the moon, while it shed a flood of mild lustre, upon the 
little area around the ruin, was not sufficiently strong to 
penetrate the deep arches of the forest, where the objects is 
still lay in deceptive shadow. The search proved fruit¬ 
less ; for so short and sudden had been the passage from 
the faint path the travellers had journeyed into the 
thicket, that every trace of their footsteps was lost in 
the obscurity of the woods. 20 

It was not long, however, before the restless savages 
were heard beating the brush, and gradually approach¬ 
ing the inner edge of that dense border of young chest¬ 
nuts which encircled the little area. 

“ They are coming ! ” muttered Heyward, endeavoring 25 
to thrust his rifle through the chink in the logs; u let us 
fire on their approach ! ” 

“ Keep everything in the shade,” returned the scout; 

“ the snapping of a flint, or even the smell of a single 


244 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


karnel of the brimstone, would bring the hungry varlets 
on us in a body. Should it please God that we must 
give battle for the scalps, trust to the experience of men 
who know the ways of the savages, and who are not often 
5 backward when the war-whoop is howled.” 

Duncan cast his eyes behind him, and saw that the 
trembling sisters were cowering in the far corner of the 
building, while the Mohicans stood in the shadow, like 
two upright posts, ready, and apparently willing, to 
10 strike, when the blow should be needed. Curbing his 
impatience, he again looked out upon the area and 
awaited the result in silence. At that instant the 
thicket opened and a tall and armed Huron advanced a 
few paces into the open space. As he gazed upon the 
15 silent block-house, the moon fell upon his swarthy coun¬ 
tenance and betrayed its surprise and curiosity. He 
made the exclamation, which usually accompanies the 
former emotion in an Indian, and calling in a low voice, 
soon drew a companion to his side. 

20 These children of the woods stood together for several 
moments, pointing at the crumbling edifice and converg¬ 
ing in the unintelligible language of their tribe. They 
then approached, though with slow and cautious steps, 
pausing every instant to look at the building like startled 
25 deer, whose curiosity struggled powerfully with their 
awakened apprehensions for the mastery. The foot 
of one of them suddenly rested on the mound, and he 
stooped to examine its nature. At this moment Hey¬ 
ward observed that the scout loosened his knife in its 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 245 

sheath and lowered the muzzle of his rifle. Imitating 
these movements, the young man prepared himself for 
the struggle which now seemed inevitable. 

The savages were so near that the least motion in one 
of the horses, or even a breath louder than common, 
would have betrayed the fugitives. But, in discovering 
the character of the mound, the attention of the Hurons 
appeared directed to a different object. They spoke 
together, and the sounds of their voices were low and 
solemn, as if influenced by a reverence that was deeply 
blended with awe. Then they drew warily back, keep¬ 
ing their eyes riveted on the ruin, as if they expected to 
see the apparitions of the dead issue from its silent 
walls, until, having reached the boundary of the area, 
they moved slowly into the thicket, and disappeared. 

Hawkeye dropped the breech of his rifle to the earth, 
and drawing a long, free breath, exclaimed in an audible 
whisper: 

“ Ay! they respect the dead, and it has this time 
saved their own lives, and it may be, the lives of better 
men too! ” 

Heyward lent his attention for a single moment to 
his companion, but without replying, he again turned 
towards those who just then interested him more. He 
heard the two Hurons leave the bushes and it was soon 
plain that all the pursuers were gathered about them in 
deep attention to their report. After a few minutes of 
earnest and solemn dialogue, altogether different from 
the noisy clamor with which they had first collected 


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246 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


about the spot, the sounds grew fainter, and more dis* 
tant, and finally were lost in the depths of the forest. 

Hawkeye waited until a signal from the listening 
Chingachgook assured him, that every sound from the 
5 retiring party was completely swallowed by the distance, 
when he motioned to Heyward to lead forth the horses 
and to assist the sisters into their saddles. The instant 
this was done they issued through the broken gate-way, 
and, stealing out by a direction opposite to the one by 
10 which they had entered, they quitted the spot, the 
sisters casting furtive glances at the silent grave and 
crumbling ruin, as they left the soft light of the moon 
to bury themselves in the gloom of the woods. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


247 


CHAPTER XIV. 

Guard. Qui est la? 

Puc. Paysans, pauvres gens de France . 1 

Shakspeare, King Henry VI 

During the rapid movement from the block-house, 
and until the party was deeply buried in the forest, each 
individual was too much interested in the escape, to 
hazard a word even in whispers. The scout resumed 
his post in the advance, though his steps, after he had 5 
thrown a safe distance between himself and his enemies, 
were more deliberate than in their previous march, in 
consequence of his utter ignorance of the localities of 
the surrounding woods. More than once he halted to 
consult with his confederates, the Mohicans, pointing 10 
upwards at the moon, and examining the barks of the 
trees with care. In these brief pauses, Heyward and 
the sisters listened, with senses rendered doubly acute 
by their danger, to detect any symptoms which might 
announce the proximity of their foes. At such moments, 15 
it seemed as if a vast range of country lay buried in 
3ternal sleep; not the least sound arising from the 
forest unless it was the distant and scarcely audible 

1 Watch. Who is there? 

Puc. Peasants, poor people of France. 


248 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


rippling of a water course. Birds, beasts, and man ap- 
peared to slumber alike, if, indeed, any of the latter 
were to be found in that wide tract of wilderness. But 
the sounds of the rivulet, feeble and murmuring as they 
5 were, relieved the guides at once from no trifling em¬ 
barrassment, and towards it they immediately held their 
way. 

When the banks of the little stream were gained, 
Hawkeye made another halt; and, taking the moccasins 
30 from his feet, he invited Heyward and Gamut to follow 
his example. He then entered the water, and for near 
an hour they travelled in the bed of the brook, leaving 
no trail. The moon had already sunk into an immense 
pile of black clouds, which lay impending above the 
15 western horizon, when they issued from the low and 
devious water course to rise again to the light and level 
of the sandy but wooded plain. Here the scout seemed 
to be once more at home, for he held on his way with 
the certainty and diligence of a man who moved in the 
20 security of his own knowledge. The path soon became 
more uneven, and the travellers could plainly perceive 
that the mountains drew nigher to them on each hand, 
and that they were, in truth, about entering one of their 
gorges. Suddenly Hawkeye made a pause, and waiting 
25 until he was joined by the whole party, he spoke, though 
in tones so low and cautious that they added to the 
solemnity of his words, in the quiet and darkness of 
the place. 

“It is easy to know the path-ways, and to find the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


249 


licks and water courses of the wilderness,” he said; 
“ but who that saw this spot could venture to say that a 
mighty army was at rest among yonder silent trees and 
barren mountains ? 99 

“ We are then at no great distance from William 
Henry ? ” said Heyward, advancing nigher to the scout. 

“ It is yet a long and weary path,” was the answer, 
“and when and where to strike it, is now our greatest 
difficulty. See,” he said, pointing through the trees 
towards a spot where a little basin of water reflected 
the bright stars from its still and placid bosom, “ here is 
the ‘bloody pond ; 9 and I am on ground that I have not 
only often travelled, but over which I have fou’t the 
enemy, from the rising to the setting sun ! ” 

“ Ha ! that sheet of dull and dreary water, then, is 
the sepulchre of the brave men who fell in the contest. 
I have heard it named, but never have I stood on its 
banks before.” 

“ Three battles did we make with the Dutch-French¬ 
man in a day ! ” continued Hawkeye, pursuing the train 
of his own thoughts, rather than replying to the remark 
of Duncan. “ He met us hard by, in our outward march 
to ambush his advance, and scattered us, like driven 
deer, through the defile, to the shores of Horican. Then 
we rallied behind our fallen trees, and made head against 
him, under Sir William—who was made Sir William 
for that very deed ; and well did we pay him for the 
disgrace of the morning! Hundreds of Frenchmen saw 
the sun that day for the last time ; and even their leader, 


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250 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


Dieskau himself, fell into our hands, so cut and torn 
with the lead that he has gone back to his own country, 
unfit for further acts in war.” 

“ ’Twas a noble repulse! ” exclaimed Heyward in the 
5 heat of his youthful ardor; “ the fame of it reached us 
early in our southern army.” 

“ Ay ! but it did not end there. I was sent by Major 
Effingham, at Sir William’s own bidding, to out-flank the 
French and carry the tidings of their disaster across 
10 the portage to the fort on the Hudson. Just hereaway, 
where you see the trees rise into a mountain swell, 1 
met a party coming down to our aid, and I led them 
where the enemy were taking their meal, little dream¬ 
ing that they had not finished the bloody work of the 
15 day.” 

“ And you surprised them ! ” 

“If death can be a surprise to men who are thinking 
only of the cravings of their appetites ! we gave them 
but little breathing time, for they had borne hard upon 
20 us in the fight of the morning, and there were few in 
our party who had not lost friend or relative by their 
hands. When all was over, the dead, and some say the 
dying, were cast into that little pond. These eyes have 
seen its waters colored with blood, as natural water 
25 never yet flowed from the bowels of the ’arth.” 

“ It was a convenient, and, I trust, will prove a peace¬ 
ful grave for a soldier ! You have, then, seen much 
service on this frontier ? ” 

“ I! ” said the scout, erecting his tall person with an 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


251 


air of military pride ; “ there are not many echoes among 
these hills that haven’t rung with the crack of my rifle, 
nor is there the space of a square mile atwixt Horican 
and the river, that ‘ Kill-deer’ hasn’t dropped a living 
body on, be it an enemy, or be it a brute beast. As for 5 
the grave there, being as quiet as you mention, it is an¬ 
other matter. There are them in the camp, who say 
and think man to lie still, should not be buried while 
the breath is in the body; and certain it is that in 
the hurry of that evening, the doctors had but little 10 
time to say who was living and who was dead. Hist! 
see you nothing, now, walking on the shore of the 
pond ? ” 

“’Tis not probable that any are as houseless as our¬ 
selves in this dreary forest.” 15 

“ Such as he may care but little for house or shelter, 
and night dew can never wet a body that passes its days 
in the water,” returned the scout, grasping the shoulder 
of Heyward, with such convulsive strength, as to make 
the young soldier painfully sensible how much supersti- 20 
tious terror had gotten the mastery of a man, who was 
usually so dauntless. 

“ By heaven! there is a human form, and it ap¬ 
proaches ! stand to your arms, my friends, for we know 
not whom we encounter.” 25 

“ Qui vive ? ” 1 demanded a stern, quick voice, which 
sounded like a challenge from another world, issuing out 
of that solitary and solemn place. 

i “ Who eoes there? ” 


252 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ What says it ? ” whispered the scout; “ it speaks 
neither Indian nor English ! ” 

“ Qui vive ? ” repeated the same voice, which was 
quickly followed by the rattling of arms, and a menacing 
3 attitude. 

“ France! ” cried Heyward, advancing from the shadow 
of the trees to the shore of the pond, within a few yards 
of the sentinel. 

“D’ou venez-vous — ou allez-vous, d’aussi bonne 
10 heure ? ” 1 demanded the grenadier, in the language and 
with the accent of a man from old France. 

“ Je viens de la decouverte, et je vais me coucher.” 2 3 

“ Etes-vous officier du roi ? ” 8 

“Sans doute, mon camarade; me prends-tu pour un 
15 provincial! Je suis capitaine de chasseurs (Heyward 
well knew that the other was of a regiment in the line) 
— j’ai ici, avec moi, les filles du commandant de la forti¬ 
fication. Aha! tu en as entendu parler! je les ai fait 
prisonnieres pres de l’autre fort, et je les conduis au 
20 general/’ 4 * * * 

“ Ma foi! mesdames; j’en suis fache pour vous,” ex- 


1 “Whence do you come; where do you go at such an early 
hour ? ” 

2 “ I have been scouting, and I am going to bed! ” 

3 “Are you an officer of the king? ” 

4 “Sure, comrade, do you take me for a provincial? I am a cav¬ 

alry captain; I have with me the daughters of the commander of the 

fortification. Ah! you have heard them talked of. I have taken 

them prisoners near the other fort, and am taking them to the gen¬ 

eral.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


253 


claimed the young soldier, touching his cap with grace; 
“ mais — fortune de guerre ! vous trouverez notre general 
un brave homme, et bien poli avec les dames ” 1 

“ C’est le caractere des gens de guerre,” said Cora, 
with admirable self-possession. “ Adieu, mon ami; je 
vous souhaiterais un devoir plus agreable a remplir.” 2 

The soldier made a low and humble acknowledgment 
for her civility; and Heyward adding a “ Bonne nuit, 
mon camarade,” 3 they moved deliberately forward ; leav¬ 
ing the sentinel pacing the banks of the silent pond, little 
suspecting an enemy of so much effrontery, and hum¬ 
ming to himself those words which were recalled to his 
mind by the sight of women, and perhaps by recollections 
of his own distant and beautiful France — 

“ Yive le vin, vive l’amour,” etc., etc . 4 

“ ’Tis well you understood the knave ! ” whispered the 
scout, when they had gained a little distance from the 
place, and letting his rifle fall into the hollow of his arm 
again; “ I soon saw that he was one of them uneasy 
Frenchers, and well for him it was, that his speech was 
friendly, and his wishes kind, or a place might have been 
found for his bones amongst those of his countrymen.” 

1 “On my word, ladies, T am sorry for you, but — the fortune of 
war! you will find our general a good fellow, and right polite toward 
the ladies.” 

2 “ It is characteristic of warriors. Good-by, friend; I wish you a 
more agreeable duty to perform.” 

3 “Good-night, my comrade.” 

4 “Here’s to wine, here’s to love,” etc. 


5 

10 

15 

20 


254 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


He was interrupted by a long and heavy groan which 
arose from the little basin, as though, in truth, the 
spirits of the departed lingered about their watery sep¬ 
ulchre. 

5 “ Surely it was of flesh ! ” continued the scout; “ no 

spirit could handle its arms so steadily ! ” 

“It was of flesh, but whether the poor fellow still 
belongs to this world, may well be doubted,” said Hey¬ 
ward, glancing his eyes around him, and missing Chin- 
10 gachgook from their little band. Another groan, more 
faint than the former, was succeeded by a heavy and 
sullen plunge into the water, and all was as still again 
as if the borders of the dreary pool had never been 
awakened from the silence of creation. While they yet 
15 hesitated in uncertainty, the form of the Indian was 
seen gliding out of the thicket. As the chief rejoined 
them, with one hand he attached the reeking scalp of 
the unfortunate young Frenchman to his girdle, and 
with the other he replaced the knife and tomahawk that 
20 had drunk his blood. He then took his wonted station, 
with the satisfied air‘of a man who believed he had done 
a deed of merit. 

The scout dropped one end of his rifle to the earth, 
and, leaning his hands on the other, he stood musing in 
25 profound silence. Then shaking his head in a mourn¬ 
ful manner, he muttered : 

“ ’Twould have been a cruel and an unhuman act for 
a white-skin ; but ’tis the gift and natur’ of an Indian, 
and I suppose it should not be denied! I could wish, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


255 


though, it had befallen an accursed Mingo, rather than 
that gay young boy, from the old countries ! ” 

“ Enough ! ” said Heyward, apprehensive the uncon¬ 
scious sisters might comprehend the nature of the deten¬ 
tion, and conquering his disgust by a train of reflections 5 
very much like that of the hunter; “ ’tis done, and 
though better it were left undone, cannot be amended. 
You see we are, too obviously, within the sentinels of 
the enemy ; what course do you propose to follow ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Hawkeye, rousing himself again, “ ’tis, 10 
as you say, too late to harbor further thoughts about it! 
Ay, the French have gathered around the fort in good 
earnest, and we have a delicate needle to thread in pass¬ 
ing them.” 

“ And but little time to do it in,” added Heyward, 15 
glancing his eyes upward towards the bank of vapor 
that concealed the setting moon. 

“And little time to do it in,” repeated the scout. 

“ The thing may be done in two fashions, by the help 
of Providence, without which it may not be done at 20 
all.” 

“ Name them quickly, for time presses.” 

“ One would be, to dismount the gentle ones, and let 
their beasts range the plain ; by sending the Mohicans 
in front, we might then cut a lane through their sen- 25 
tries, and enter the fort over the dead bodies.” 

“ It will not do — it will not do ! ” interrupted the 
generous Heyward; “a soldier might force his way in 
this manner, but never with such a convoy.” 


256 


JAMES FENIM ORE COOPER. 


il ’T would be, indeed, a bloody path for such tender 
feet to wade in ! ” returned the equally reluctant scout, 
“ but I * thought it befitting my manhood to name it. 
We must then turn on our trail, and get without the 
5 line of their lookouts, when we will bend short to the 
west, and enter the mountains ; where I can hide you 
so that all the devil’s hounds in Montcalm’s pay would 
be thrown off the scent for months to come.” 

“ Let it be done, and that instantly.” 

10 Further words were unnecessary; for Hawkeye, merely 
uttering the mandate to “ follow,” moved along the 
route, by which they had just entered their present 
critical, and even dangerous situation. Their progress, 
like their late dialogue, was guarded and without noise; 
15 for none knew at what moment a passing patrol, or a 
crouching picket, of the enemy, might rise upon their 
path. As they held their silent way along the margin 
of the pond, again Heyward and the scout stole furtive 
glances at its appalling dreariness. They looked in vain 
20 for the form they had so recently seen stalking along its 
silent shores, while a low and regular wash of the little 
waves, by announcing that the waters were not yet sub¬ 
sided, furnished a frightful memorial of the deed of 
blood they had just witnessed. Like all that passing 
25 and gloomy scene, the low basin, however, quickly 
melted in the darkness, and became blended with the 
mass of black objects in the rear of the travellers. 

Hawkeye soon deviated from the line of their retreat, 
and, striking off towards the mountains which form the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


257 


western boundary of the narrow plain, he led his fol¬ 
lowers with swift steps, deep within the shadows that 
were cast from their high and broken summits. The 
route was now painful, lying over ground ragged with 
rocks, and intersected with ravines, and their progress 5 
proportionately slow. Bleak and black hills lay on 
every side of them, compensating in some degree for the 
additional toil of the march, by the sense of security 
they imparted. At length the party began slowly to 
rise a steep and rugged ascent by a path that curiously 10 
wound among rocks and trees, avoiding the one, and 
supported by the other, in a manner that showed it had 
been devised by men long practised in the arts of the 
wilderness. As they gradually rose from the level of 
the valleys, the thick darkness which usually precedes 15 
the approach of day, began to disperse, and objects were 
seen in the plain and palpable colors with which they 
had been gifted by nature. When they issued from the 
stunted woods which clung to the barren sides of the 
mountain, upon a flat and mossy rock that formed its 20 
summit, they met the morning, as it came blushing 
above the green pines of a hill that lay on the opposite 
side of the valley of the Horican. 

The scout now told the sisters to dismount; and, tak¬ 
ing the bridles from the mouths and the saddles off the 25 
backs of the jaded beasts, he turned them loose to glean 
a scanty subsistence among the shrubs and meagre her¬ 
bage of that elevated region. 

“ Go,” he said, “and seek your food where natur’ 


258 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


gives it you; and beware that you become not food to 
ravenous wolves yourselves, among these hills.” 

“ Have we no further need of them ? ” demanded 
Heyward. 

5 “ See, and judge with your own eyes,” said the scout, 

advancing towards the eastern brow of the mountain, 
whither he beckoned for the whole party to follow; “ if 
it was as easy to look into the heart o’ man, as it is to 
spy out the nakedness of Montcalm’s camp from this 
10 spot, hypocrites would grow scarce, and the cunning of 
a Mingo might prove a losing game, compared to the 
honesty of a Delaware.” 

When the travellers reached the verge of the precipice, 
they saw at a glance the truth of the scout’s declaration, 
15 and the admirable foresight with which he had led them 
to their commanding station. 

The mountain on which they stood, elevated perhaps 
a thousand feet in the air, was a high cone, that rose a 
little in advance of that range which reached for miles 
20 along the western shores of the lake, until, meeting its 
sister piles, beyond the water, jt ran off far towards the 
Canadas, in confused and broken masses of rock, thinly 
sprinkled with evergreens. Immediately at the feet of 
the party, the southern shore of the Horican swept in a 
25 broad semicircle, from mountain to mountain, marking 
a wide strand that soon rose into an uneven and some¬ 
what elevated plain. To the north stretched the limpid, 
and, as it appeared from that dizzy height, the narrow 
sheet of the “ holy lake,” indented with numberless bays, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


259 


embellished by fantastic headlands, and dotted with 
countless islands. At the distance of a few leagues, the 
bed of the waters became lost among mountains, or was 
wrapped in the masses of vapor that came slowly rolling 
along their bosom, before a light morning air. But a 5 
narrow opening between the crests of the hills pointed 
out the passage by which they found their way still far¬ 
ther north, to spread their pure and ample sheets again, 
before pouring out their tribute into the distant Cham¬ 
plain. To the south stretched the defile, or rather broken 10 
plain, so often mentioned. For several miles in this di¬ 
rection the mountains appeared reluctant to yield their 
dominion, but within reach of the eye they diverged, and 
finally melted into the level and sandy lands, across 
which we have accompanied our adventurers in their 15 
double journey. Along both ranges of hills, which 
bounded the opposite sides of the lake and valley, clouds 
of light vapor were rising in spiral wreaths from the un¬ 
inhabited woods, looking like the smokes of hidden cot¬ 
tages, or rolled lazily down the declivities to mingle with 20 
the fogs of the lower land. A single, solitary, snow- 
white cloud floated above the valley, and marked the 
spot, beneath which lay the silent pool of the “ bloody 
pond.” 

Directly on the shore of the lake, and nearer to its 25 
western than to its eastern margin, lay the extensive 
earthen ramparts and low buildings of William Henry. 
Two of the sweeping bastions appeared to rest on the 
water which washed their bases, while a deep ditch and 


260 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


extensive morasses guarded its other sides and angles. 
The land had been cleared of wood for a reasonable dis¬ 
tance around the work, but every other part of the scene 
lay in the green livery of nature, except where the lim- 
5 pid water mellowed the view, or the bold rocks thrust 
their black and naked heads above the undulating out¬ 
lines of the mountain ranges. In its front, might be 
seen the scattered sentinels, who held a weary watch 
against their numerous foes; and within the walls them- 
10 selves, the travellers looked down upon men still drowsy 
with a night of vigilance. Towards the southeast, but 
in immediate contact with the fort, was an intrenched 
camp, posted on a rocky eminence, that would have been 
far more eligible for the work itself, in which Hawkeye 
15 pointed out the presence of those auxiliary regiments 
that had so recently left the Hudson, in their company. 
From the woods, a little farther to the south, rose numer¬ 
ous dark and lurid smokes, that were easily to be distin¬ 
guished from the purer exhalations of the springs, and 
20 which the scout also showed to Heyward as evidences 
that the enemy lay in force in that direction. 

But the spectacle which most concerned the young 
soldier was on the western bank of the lake, though 
quite near to its southern termination. On a strip of 
25 land, which appeared, from his stand, too narrow to con¬ 
tain such an army, but which in truth extended many 
hundreds of yards from the shores of the Horican to the 
base of the mountain, were to be seen the white tents 
and military engines of an encampment of ten thousand 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 261 

men. Batteries were already thrown up in their front, 
and even while the spectators above them were looking 
down, with such different emotions, on a scene, which 
lay like a map beneath their feet, the roar of artillery 
rose from the valley, and passed off in thundering echoes, 
along the eastern hills. 

“ Morning is just touching them below,” said the de¬ 
liberate and musing scout, “ and the watchers have a 
mind to wake up the sleepers by the sound of cannon. 
We are a few hours too late ! Montcalm has already 
filled the woods with his accursed Iroquois.” 

“ The place is, indeed, invested,” returned Duncan; 
“ but is there no expedient by which we may enter ? 
capture in the works would be far preferable to falling, 
again, into the hands of roving Indians.” 

“ See ! ” exclaimed the scout, unconsciously directing 
the attention of Cora to the quarters of her own father, 
“ how that shot has made the stones fly from the side of 
the commandant’s house ! Ay ! these Frenchers will 
pull it to pieces faster than it was put together, solid 
and thick though it be ! ” 

“ Heyward, I sicken at the sight of danger that I can¬ 
not share,” said the undaunted but anxious daughter. 
“Let us go to Montcalm, and demand admission; he 
dare not deny a child the boon ! ” 

“ You would scarce find the tent of the Frenchman 
with the hair on your head ! ” said the blunt scout. “ If 
I had but one of the thousand boats which lie empty 
along that shore, it might be done. Ha ! here will soon 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 

be an end of the firing, for yonder comes a fog that will 
turn day to night, and make an Indian arrow more dan¬ 
gerous than a moulded cannon. Now, if you are equal 
to the work, and will follow, I will make a push; for I 
5 long to get down into that camp, if it be only to scatter 
some Mingo dogs, that I see lurking in the skirts of yon¬ 
der thicket of birch.” 

“ We are equal! ” said Cora, firmly; “ on such an 
errand we will follow to any danger!” 

10 The scout turned to her with a smile of honest and 
cordial approbation, as he answered : 

“I would I had a thousand men, of brawny limbs and 
quick eyes, that feared death as little as you ! I’d send 
them jabbering Frenchers back into their den again afore 
15 the week was ended, howling like so many fettered 
hounds, or hungry wolves. But stir,” he added, turning 
from her to the rest of the party, “ the fog comes rolling 
down so fast we shall have but just the time to meet it 
on the plain and use it as a cover. Remember, if any 
20 accident should befall me, to keep the air blowing on 
your left cheeks — or rather follow the Mohicans ; they’d 
scent their way, be it in day, or be it at night.” 

He then waved his hand for them to follow, and threw 
himself down the steep declivity with free but careful 
25 footsteps. Heyward assisted the sisters to descend, and 
in a few minutes they were all far down a mountain, 
whose sides they had climbed with so much toil and 
pain. 

The direction taken by Hawkeye soon brought the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


263 


travellers to the level of the plain, nearly opposite to a 
sally-port, in the western curtain of the fort, which lay, 
itself, at the distance of about half a mile from the 
point where he halted to allow Duncan to come up with 
his charge. In their eagerness, and favored by the na¬ 
ture of the ground, they had anticipated the fog, which 
was rolling heavily down the lake, and it became neces¬ 
sary to pause, until the mists had wrapped the camp of 
the enemy in their fleecy mantle. The Mohicans profited 
by the delay to steal out of the woods and to make a 
survey of surrounding objects. They were followed at 
a little distance by the scout, with a view to profit early 
by their report, and to obtain some faint knowledge for 
himself of the more immediate localities. 

In a very few moments he returned, his face reddened 
with vexation, while he muttered forth his disappoint¬ 
ment in words of no very gentle import. 

“Here, has the cunning Frenchman been posting a 
picket directly in our path,” he said; “ redskins and 
whites ; and we shall be as likely to fall into their midst, 
as to pass them in the fog! ” 

“ Cannot we make a circuit to avoid the danger,” 
asked Heyward, “ and come into our path again when 
it is past ? ” 

“ Who that once bends from the line of his march in 
a fog can tell when or how to turn to find it again ? 
The mists of Horican are not like the curls from a peace- 
pipe, or the smoke which settles above a mosquito fire.” 

H© was yet speaking, when a crashing sound was 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


264 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


heard, and a cannon-ball entered the thicket, striking 
the body of a sapling and rebounding to the earth, its 
force being much expended by previous resistance. The 
Indians followed instantly like busy attendants on the 
5 terrible messenger, and Uncas commenced speaking ear¬ 
nestly, and with much action, in the Delaware tongue. 

“ It may be so, lad,” muttered the scout, when he had 
ended; “ for desperate fevers are not to be treated like 
a toothache. Come, then, the fog is shutting in.” 

10 “ Stop ! ” cried Heyward ; “ first explain your expec¬ 

tations.” 

“ ’Tis soon done, and a small hope it is ; but then it is 
better than nothing. This shot that you see,” added the 
scout, kicking the harmless iron with his foot, “ has 
15 ploughed the ? arth in its road from the fort, and we 
shall hunt for the furrow it has made, when all other 
•signs may fail. No more words, but follow; or the fog 
may leave us in the middle of our path, a mark for both 
armies to shoot at.” 

20 Heyward perceiving that, in fact, a crisis had arrived, 
when acts were more required than words, placed him¬ 
self between the sisters, and drew them swiftly forward, 
keeping the dim figure of their leader in his eye. It 
was soon apparent that Hawkeye had not magnified the 
25 power of the fog, for before they had proceeded twenty 
yards, it was difficult for the different individuals of the 
party to distinguish each other in the vapor. 

They had made their little circuit to the left, and 
were already inclining again towards the right, having, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


265 


as Heyward thought, got over nearly half the distance 
to the friendly works, when his ears were saluted with 
the fierce summons, apparently within twenty feet of 
them, of — 

“ Qui va la ? ” 1 

“ Push on ! ” whispered the scout, once more bending 
to the left. 

“ Push on ! ” repeated Heyward ; when the summons 
was renewed by a dozen voices, each of which seemed 
charged with menace. 

“ C’est moi,” 2 cried Duncan, dragging, rather than 
leading, those he supported, swiftly onward. 

“ Bete ! qui ? moi! ” 3 

“Un ami de la France.” 4 

i( Tu m’as plus hair d’un ennemi de la France ; arrete ! 
ou pardieu je te ferai ami du diable. Non! feu, cama- 
rades, feu ! ” 5 

The order was instantly obeyed, and the fog was 
stirred by the explosion of fifty muskets. Happily, the 
aim was bad, and the bullets cut the air in a direction a 
little different from that taken by the fugitives; though 
still so nigh them that to the unpractised ears of David 
and the two maidens it appeared as if they whistled 
within a few inches of the organs. The outcry was re- 

1 “ Who goes there ? ” 3 “Brute! who is I?” 

2 “It’s I.” 4 “ A friend of France.” 

5 “You appear to me more like an enemy of France. Halt ! or by 

Jove, I'll make you a friend of the devil. You won’t ! fire, comrades, 

fire ! ” 


5 

10 

15 

20 


266 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


newed, and the order, not only to fire again, but to pur¬ 
sue, was too plainly audible. When Heyward briefly 
explained the meaning of the words they heard, Hawk- 
eye halted, and spoke with quick decision and great firm- 
5 ness. 

“Let us deliver our fire,” he said; “they will believe 
it a sortie and give way; or will wait for re-enforce¬ 
ments.” 

The scheme was well conceived, but failed in its effect. 
30 The instant the French heard the pieces, it seemed as if 
the plain was alive with men, muskets rattling along its 
whole extent, from the shores of the lake to the farthest 
boundary of the woods. 

“We shall draw their entire army upon us, and bring 
15 on a general assault,” said Duncan. “ Lead on, my 
friend, for your own life and ours! ” 

The scout seemed willing to comply; but, in the hurry 
of the moment, and in the change of position, he had 
lost the direction. In vain he turned either cheek to- 
■20 wards the light air; they felt equally cool. In this di¬ 
lemma, Uncas lighted on the furrow of the cannon-ball, 
where it had cut the ground in three adjacent ant-hills. 

“ Give me the range,” said Hawkeye, bending to catch 
a glimpse of the direction, and then instantly moving 
25 onward. 

Cries, oaths, voices calling to each other, and the re¬ 
ports of muskets, were now quick and incessant, and, 
apparently, on every side of them. Suddenly, a-strong 
glare of light flashed across the scene, the fog rolled up- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


267 


ward in thick wreaths, and several cannon belched across 
the plain, and the roar was thrown heavily back from 
the bellowing echoes of the mountain. 

“ ’Tis from the fort! ” exclaimed Hawkeye, turning 
short on his tracks; “and we, like stricken fools, were 
rushing to the woods, under the very knives of the 
Maquas.” 

The instant their mistake was rectified, the whole 
party retraced the error with the utmost diligence. 
Duncan willingly relinquished the support of Cora to 
the arm of Uncas, and Cora as readily accepted the wel¬ 
come assistance. Men, hot and angry in the pursuit, 
were evidently on their footsteps, and each instant 
threatened their capture, if not their destruction. 

“ Point de quartier aux coquins ! ” 1 cried an eager 
pursuer, who seemed to direct the operations of the 
enemy. 

“ Stand firm, and be ready, my gallant 60ths! ” sud¬ 
denly exclaimed a voice above them; “ wait to see the 
enemy; fire low, and sweep the glacis.” 

“ Father! father ! ” exclaimed a piercing cry from out 
the mist; “ it is I! Alice ! thy own Elsie! spare, oh! 
save, your daughters ! ” 

“ Hold ! ” shouted the former speaker, in the awful 
tones of parental agony, the sound reaching even to the 
woods, and rolling back in solemn echo. “ ? Tis she! 
God has restored me my children! Throw open the 
sally-port; to the field, 60ths, to the field ; pull not a 

1 “ No quarter for scoundrels! ” 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


268 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


trigger, lest ye kill my lambs! Drive off these dogs of 
France with your steel.” 

Duncan heard the grating of the rusty hinges, and 
darting to the spot, directed by the sound, he met a long 
5 line of dark-red warriors passing swiftly towards the 
glacis. He knew them for his own battalion of the royal 
Americans, and, flying to their head, soon swept every 
trace of his pursuers from before the works. 

For an instant Cora and Alice had stood trembling 
10 and bewildered by this unexpected desertion; but, before 
either had leisure for speech, or even thought, an officer 
of gigantic frame, whose locks were bleached with years 
and service, but whose air of military grandeur had been 
rather softened than destroyed by time, rushed out of 
15 the body of the mist and folded them to his bosom, 
while large scalding tears rolled down his pale and 
wrinkled cheeks, and he exclaimed, in the peculiar accent 
of Scotland: 

“ For this I thank thee, Lord ! Let danger come as it 
20 will, thy servant is now prepared ! ” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


269 


CHAPTER XV. 

Then go we in, to know his embassy, 

Which I could with a ready guess declare, 

Before the Frenchman speak a word of it. 

Shakspeare, King Henry V. 

The few succeeding days were passed amid all the 
privations, the uproar, and the dangers of the siege, 
which was vigorously pressed by a power against whose 
approaches Munro possessed no competent means of re¬ 
sistance. It appeared as if Webb, with his army, which 5 
lay slumbering on the banks of the Hudson, had utterly 
forgotten the strait to which his brethren were reduced. 
Montcalm had filled the woods of the portage with his 
savages, every yell and whoop from whom rang through 
the British encampment, chilling the hearts of men, who iq 
were already but too much disposed to magnify the dan¬ 
ger, with additional terror. 

Not so, however, with the besieged. Animated by the 
words, and stimulated by the examples of their leaders, 
they had found their courage, and maintained their an- 15 
cient reputation, with a zeal that did justice to the stern 
character of their commander. As if satisfied with the 
toil of marching through the wilderness to encounter his 
enemy, the French general, though of approved skill, 


270 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


had neglected to seize the adjacent mountains; whence 
the besieged might have been exterminated with impu¬ 
nity, and which, in the more modern warfare of the 
country, would not have been neglected for a single hour. 
5 This sort of contempt for eminences, or rather dread of 
the labor of ascending them, might have been termed the 
besetting weakness of the warfare of the period. It ori¬ 
ginated in the simplicity of the Indian contests, in which, 
from the nature of the combats, and the density of the 
10 forests, fortresses were rare, and artillery next to useless. 
The carelessness engendered by these usages descended 
even to the war of the Revolution, and lost the States the 
important fortress of Ticonderoga, opening a way for the 
army of Burgoyne, into what was then the bosom of 
15 the country. We look back at this ignorance, or infatu¬ 
ation, whichever it may be called, with astonishment, 
knowing that the neglect of an eminence whose difficul¬ 
ties, like those of Mount Defiance, had been so greatly 
exaggerated, would, at the present time prove fatal to 
20 the reputation of the engineer who had planned the 
works at their base, or to that of the general, whose lot 
it was to defend them. 

The tourist, the valetudinarian, or the amateur of the 
beauties of nature, who, in the train of his four-in-hand, 
25 now rolls through the scenes we have attempted to 
describe, in quest of information, health, or pleasure, 
or floats steadily towards his object on those artificial 
waters, which have sprung up under the administration 
of a statesman, who has dared to stake his political 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


271 


character on the hazardous issue, is not to suppose that 
his ancestors traversed those hills or struggled with the 
same currents with equal facility. The transportation 
of a single heavy gun, was often considered equal to a 
victory gained j if happily the difficulties of the passage 
had not so far separated it from its necessary concomi¬ 
tants, the ammunition, as to render it no more than an 
useless tube of unwieldy iron. 

The evils of this state of things pressed heavily on 
the fortunes of the resolute Scotsman, who now defended 
William Henry. Though his adversary neglected the 
hills, he had planted his batteries with judgment on the 
plain, and caused them to be served with vigor and skill. 
Against this assault, the besieged could only oppose the 
imperfect and hasty preparations of a fortress in the 
wilderness. 

It was on the afternoon of the fifth day of the siege, 
and the fourth of his own service in it, that Major Hey¬ 
ward profited by a parley that had just been beaten, by 
repairing to the ramparts of one of the water bastions 
to breathe the cool air from the lake, and to take a sur¬ 
vey of the progress of the siege. He was alone, if the 
solitary sentinel who paced the mound be excepted; for 
the artillerists had hastened also to profit by the tempo¬ 
rary suspension of their arduous duties. The evening 
was delightfully calm, and the light air from the limpid 
water fresh and soothing. It seemed as if, with the 
termination to the roar of artillery and the plunging of 
shot, nature had also seized the moment to assume her 


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272 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


mildest and most captivating form. The sun poured 
down his parting glory on the scene, without the oppres¬ 
sion of those fierce rays that belong to the climate and 
the season. The mountains looked green and fresh and 
5 lovely, tempered with the milder light, or softened in 
shadow, as thin vapors floated between them and the 
sun. The numerous islands rested on the bosom of 
the Horican, some low and sunken, as if imbedded in 
the waters, and others appearing to hover above the ele- 
10 ment, in little hillocks of green velvet; among which the 
fishermen of the beleaguering army peacefully rowed 
their skiffs, or floated at rest on the glassy mirror, in 
quiet pursuit of their employment. 

The scene was at once animated and still. All that 
15 pertained to nature was sweet, or simply grand; while 
those parts which depended on the temper and move¬ 
ments of man, were lively and playful. 

Two little spotless flags were abroad, the one on a 
salient angle of the fort, and the other on the advanced 
20 battery of the besiegers; emblems of the truce which 
existed, not only to the acts, but it would seem, also, 
to the enmity of the combatants. Behind these, again, 
swung, heavily opening and closing in silken folds, the 
rival standards of England and France. 

25 A hundred gay and thoughtless young Frenchmen 
were drawing a net to the pebbly beach, within danger¬ 
ous proximity to the sullen but silent cannon of the 
fort, while the eastern mountain was sending back the 
loud shouts and gay merriment that attended their 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


273 


sport. Some were rushing eagerly to enjoy the aquatic 
games of the lake, and others were already toiling their 
way up the neighboring hills, with the restless curiosity 
of their nation. To all these sports and pursuits, those 
of the enemy who watched the besieged, and the be- 5 
sieged themselves, were, however, merely the idle, 
though sympathizing spectators. Here and there a 
picket had, indeed, raised a song, or mingled in a dance, 
which had drawn the dusky savages around them from 
their lairs in the forest. In short, everything wore 10 
rather the appearance of a day of pleasure than of an 
hour stolen from the dangers and toil of a bloody and 
vindictive warfare. 

Duncan had stood in a musing attitude, contemplat¬ 
ing this scene a few minutes, when his eyes were 15 
directed to the glacis in front of the sally-port, already 
mentioned, by the sounds of approaching footsteps. He 
walked to an angle of the bastion, and beheld the scout 
advancing, under the custody of a French officer, to the 
body of the fort. The countenance of Hawkeye was 20 
haggard and careworn, and his air dejected, as though 
he felt the deepest degradation at having fallen into the 
power of his enemies. He was without his favorite 
weapon, and his arms were even bound behind him with 
thongs made of the skin of a deer. The arrival of flags, 25 
to cover the messengers of summons, had occurred so 
often of late, that when Heyward first threw his care¬ 
less glance on this group, he expected to see auother of 
the officers of the enemy charged with a similar office; 


274 


JAMES FENIMOEE COOPER. 


but the instant he recognized the tall person and still 
sturdy, though downcast, features of his friend, the 
woodsman, he started with surprise, and turned to 
descend from the bastion into the bosom of the work. 
5 The sounds of the other voices, however, caught his 
attention, and for a moment caused him to forget his 
purpose. At the inner angle of the mound he met the 
sisters walking along the parapet in search, like him¬ 
self, of air and relief from confinement. They had not 
10 met from that painful moment when he deserted them 
on the plain, only to assure their safety. He had 
parted from them worn with care and jaded with fa¬ 
tigue ; he now saw them refreshed and blooming, though 
still timid and anxious. Under such an inducement it 
15 will cause no surprise, that the young man lost sight, 
for a time, of other objects in order to address them. 
He was, however, anticipated by the voice of the ardent 
and youthful Alice. 

“ Ah! thou truant! thou recreant knight! he who 
20 abandons his damsels in the very lists,” she cried. u Here 
have we been days, nay, ages, expecting you at our feet, 
imploring mercy and forgetfulness of your craven back¬ 
sliding, or, I should rather say, back-running—Tor verily 
you fled in a manner that no stricken deer, as our worthy 
25 friend the scout would say, could equal! ” 

“ You know that Alice means our thanks and our 
blessings,” added the graver and more thoughtful Cora, 
“ In truth, we have a little wondered why you should so 
rigidly absent yourself from a place, where the gratitude 


* THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 275 

of the daughters might receive the support of a parent’s 
thanks.” 

“ Your father himself could tell you that, though ab¬ 
sent from your presence, I have not been altogether for¬ 
getful of your safety,” returned the young man; “the 5 
mastery of yonder village of huts,” pointing to the neigh¬ 
boring intrenched camp, “has been keenly disputed; 
and he who holds it, is sure to be possessed of this fort 
and that which it contains. My days and my nights 
have all been passed there, since we separated, because 10 
I thought that duty called me thither. But,” he added 
with an air of chagrin, which he endeavored, though un¬ 
successfully, to conceal, “ had I been aware, that what I 
then believed a soldier’s conduct, could be so construed, 
shame would have been added to the list of reasons.” 15 
“ Heyward ! — Duncan! ” exclaimed Alice, bending 
forward to read his half-averted countenance, until a lock 
of her golden hair rested on her flushed cheek, and 
nearly concealed the tear that had started to her eye; 

“ did I think this idle tongue of mine had pained you, I 20 
would silence it forever. Cora can say, if Cora would, 
how justly we have prized your services, and how deep 
-— I had almost said, how fervent — is our gratitude ! ” 

“ And will Cora attest the truth of this ? ” cried Dun¬ 
can, suffering the cloud to be chased from his counte- 25 
nance by a smile of open pleasure. “What says our 
graver sister ? Will she find an excuse for the neglect 
of the night, in the duty of a soldier ? ” 

Cora made no immediate answer, but turned her face 


276 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


toward the water, as if looking on the sheet of the Hori- 
can. When she did bend her dark eyes on the young 
man, they were yet filled with an expression of anguish 
that at once drove every thought but that of kind solici- 
5 tude from his mind. 

“ You are not well, dearest Miss Munro! ” he ex¬ 
claimed ; “ we have trifled, while you are in suffering! ” 

“ ’Tis nothing/’ she answered, refusing his offered 
support, with feminine reserve. “ That I cannot see the 
10 sunny side of the picture of life, like this artless but 
ardent enthusiast,” she added, laying her hand lightly, 
but affectionately, on the arm of her sister, “ is the pen¬ 
alty of experience, and, perhaps, the misfortune of my 
nature. See,” she continued, as if determined to shake 
15 off infirmity in a sense of duty; “look around you, 
Major Heyward, and tell me what a prospect is this for 
the daughter of a soldier, whose greatest happiness is 
his honor and his military renown.” 

“ Neither ought nor shall be tarnished by circumstances 
20 over which he has had no control,” Duncan warmly 
replied. “ But your words recall me to my own duty. 
I go now to your gallant father, to hear his determina¬ 
tion in matters of the last moment to the defence. God 
bless you in every fortune, noble — Cora — I may and 
25 must call you.” She frankly gave him her hand, though 
her lips quivered, and her cheeks gradually became of 
an ashy paleness. “ In every fortune, I know you will 
be an ornament and honor to your sex. Alice, adieu ” 
*—his tones changed from admiration to tenderness — 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


277 


“ adieu, Alice; we shall soon meet again; as conquerors, 

I trust, and amid rejoicings ! ” 

Without waiting for an answer from either of the 
maidens, the young man threw himself down the grassy 
steps of the bastion, and moving rapidly across the fl 
parade, he was quickly in the presence of their father. 
Munro was pacing his narrow apartment with a dis¬ 
turbed air and gigantic strides, as Duncan entered. 

“You have anticipated my wishes, Major Heyward,” 
he said; “ I was about to request this favor.” 10 

“I am sorry to see, sir, that the messenger I so 
warmly recommended, has returned in custody of the 
French. I hope there is no reason to distrust his 
fidelity?” 

“ The fidelity of the i Long Bifle ? is well known to 15 
me,” returned Munro, “ and is above suspicion; though 
his usual good fortune seems, at last, to have failed. 
Montcalm has got him, and with the accursed politeness 
of his nation he has sent him in with a doleful tale, of 
i knowing how I valued the fellow, he could not think 20 
of retaining him.’ A jesuitical way, that, Major Duncan 
Heyward, of telling a man of his misfortunes ! ” 

“ But the general and his succor ? — ” 

“ Did ye look to the south as ye entered, and could 
ye not see them ? ” said the old soldier, laughing bit- 25 
terly. “ Hoot! hoot! you ? re an impatient boy, sir, and 
cannot give the gentlemen leisure for their march ! ” 

“ They are coming then ? The scout has said as 
much ? ” 


278 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ When ? and by what path ? for the dunce has 
omitted to tell me this ! There is a letter, it would 
seem, too; and that is the only agreeable part of the 
matter. For the customary attentions of your Marquis 
5 of Montcalm — I warrant me, Duncan, that he of Lo¬ 
thian would buy a dozen such marquisates — but, if the 
news of the letter were bad, the gentility of this French 
monsieur would certainly compel him to let us know 
it! ” 

10 “ He keeps the letter, then, while he releases the 

messenger ? ” 

a Ay, that does he, and all for the sake of what you 
call your ‘ bonhomie.’ I would venture, if the truth 
was known, the fellow’s grandfather taught the noble 
15 science of dancing! ” 

“ But what says the scout ? he has eyes and ears and 
a tongue ; what verbal report does he make ? ” 

“ Oh! sir, he is not wanting in natural organs, and he 
is free to tell all that he has seen and heard. The whole 
20 amount is this; there is a fort of his majesty’s on the 
banks of the Hudson, called Edward, in honor of his 
gracious highness of York, you’ll know, and it is well 
filled with armed men, as such a work should be.” 

“ But was there no movement, no signs of any intern 
25 tion to advance to our relief ? ” 

“ There were the morning and evening parades, and 
when one of the provincial loons — you’ll know, Duncan, 
you’re half a Scotsman yourself — when one of them 
dropped his powder over his porretch, if it touched the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


279 


coals, it just burnt! ” Then suddenly changing his 
bitter, ironical manner to one more grave and thought¬ 
ful, he continued; “ and yet there might, and must be, 
something in that letter, which it would be well to 
know.” 5 

“ Our decision should be speedy,” said Duncan, gladly 
availing himself of this change of humor to press the 
more important objects of their interview; “ I cannot 
conceal from you, sir, that the camp will not be much 
longer tenable; and I am sorry to add that things ap- 10 
pear no better in the fort; — more than half the guns 
are bursted.” 

“ And how should it be otherwise ? some were fished 
from the bottom of the lake; some have been rusting in 
the woods since the discovery of the country; and some 15 
were never guns at all — mere privateersmen’s play¬ 
things ! Do you think, sir, you can have Woolwich War¬ 
ren in the midst of a wilderness; three thousand miles 
from Great Britain ? ” 

“ Our walls are crumbling about our ears, and provi- 20 
sions begin to fail us,” continued Heyward, without re¬ 
garding this new burst of indignation ; “ even the men 
show signs of discontent and alarm.” 

“ Major Heyward,” said Munro, turning to his youthful 
associate with the dignity of his years and superior rank ; 25 
“ I should have served his majesty for half a century, 
and earned these gray hairs, in vain, were I ignorant of 
all you say, and of the pressing nature of our circum¬ 
stances; still, there is everything due to the honor of 


280 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


the king’s arms and something to ourselves. While 
there is hope of succor, this fortress will I defend, though 
it be to be done with pebbles gathered on the lake shore. 
It is a sight of the letter, therefore, that we want, that 
5 we may know the intentions of the man, the Earl of 
Loudon has left among us as his substitute.” 

“ And can I be of service in the matter ? ” 

“ Sir, you can ; the Marquis of Montcalm has, in addi¬ 
tion to his other civilities, invited me to a personal inter- 
10 view between the works and his own camp; in order, as 
he says, to impart some additional information. Now, 
I think it would not be wise to show any undue solici¬ 
tude to meet him, and I would employ you, an officer of 
rank, as my substitute; for it would but ill comport with 
15 the honor of Scotland, to let it be said one of her gentle¬ 
men was outdone in civility by a native of any other 
country on earth.” 

Without assuming the supererogatory task of entering 
into a discussion of the comparative merits of national 
20 courtesy, Duncan cheerfully assented to supply the place 
of the veteran in the approaching interview. A long 
and confidential communication now succeeded, during 
which the young man received some additional insight 
into his duty, from the experience and native acuteness 
85 of his commander, and then the former took his leave. 

As Duncan could only act as the representative of the 
commandant of the fort, the ceremonies which should 
have accompanied a meeting between the heads of the 
adverse forces were of course dispensed with. The truce 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


281 


still existed, and with a roll and beat of the drum, and 
covered by a little white flag, Duncan left the sally-port, 
within ten minutes after his instructions were ended. 
He was received by the French officer in advance, with 
the usual formalities, and immediately accompanied to 
a distant marquee of the renowned soldier, who led the 
forces of France. 

The general of the enemy received the youthful mes¬ 
senger, surrounded by his principal officers, and by a 
swarthy band of the native chiefs, who had followed him 
to the field, with the warriors of their several tribes. 
Heyward paused short, when, in glancing his eyes rap¬ 
idly over the dark group of the latter, he beheld the 
malignant countenance of Magua, regarding him with 
the calm but sullen attention which marked the expres¬ 
sion of that subtle savage. A slight exclamation of sur¬ 
prise even burst from the lips of the young man; but, 
instantly recollecting his errand, and the presence in 
which he stood, he suppressed every appearance of emo¬ 
tion, and turned to the hostile leader, who had already 
advanced a step to receive him. 

The Marquis of Montcalm was, at the period of which 
we write, in the flower of his age, and it may be added, 
in the zenith of his fortunes. But even in that envi¬ 
able situation, he was affable, and distinguished as much 
for his attention to the forms of courtesy as for that 
chivalrous courage which, only two short years after¬ 
wards, induced him to throw away his life, on the plains 
of Abraham. Duncan, in turning his eyes from the 


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282 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


malign expression of Magna, suffered them to rest with 
pleasure on the smiling and polished features and the 
noble military air of the French general. 

“Monsieur,” said the latter, “j’ai beaucoup de plaisir 
5 a — bah ! — ou est cet interprete ? ” 1 

“ Je crois, monsieur, qu’il ne sera pas ndcessaire,” 
Heyward modestly replied; “je parle un peu fran- 
Qais.” 2 

“ Ah! j’en suis bien aise,” said Montcalm, taking Dun- 
10 can familiarly by the arm, and leading him deep into the 
marquee, a little out of ear-shot; “ je deteste ces fripons- 
la; on ne sait jamais sur quel pied, on est avec eux. 
Eh, bien! monsieur,” 3 he continued, still speaking in 
French; “ though I should have been proud of receiving 
15 your commandant, I am very happy that he has seen 
proper to employ an officer so distinguished, and who, 
I am sure, is so amiable, as yourself.” 

Duncan bowed low, pleased with the compliment, in 
spite of a most heroic determination to suffer no artifice 
20 to allure him into a forgetfulness of the interests of his 
prince; and Montcalm, after a pause of a moment, as if 
to collect his thoughts, proceeded : 

“ Your commandant is a brave man, and well quali¬ 
fied to repel my assaults. Mais, monsieur, 4 is it not 

1 “ Sir, I’ve great pleasure in — bah! — where is that interpreter ? ” 

2 “ I think, sir, that it will not he necessary; I speak a little 
French.” 

3 “Ah! I am very glad of it; I detest these scamps. One never 
knows upon what footing one is with them. Well, sir.” 

4 “ But, sir.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


283 


time to begin to take more counsel of humanity and 
less of your courage ? The one as strongly character- 
izes the hero as the other ! ” 

“ We consider the qualities as inseparable,” returned 
Duncan, smiling; “but, while we find in the vigor of 
your excellency, every motive to stimulate the one, we 
can, as yet, see no particular call for the exercise of the 
other.” 

Montcalm, in his turn, slightly bowed, but it was with 
the air of a man too practised to remember the language 
of flattery. After musing a moment, he added: 

“ It is possible my glasses have deceived me, and that 
your works resist our cannon better than I had sup¬ 
posed. You know our force?” 

“ Our accounts vary,” said Duncan, carelessly; “ the 
highest, however, has not exceeded twenty thousand 
men.” 

The Frenchman bit his lip, and fastened his eyes 
keenly on the other, as if to read his thoughts ; then, 
with a readiness peculiar to himself, he continued, as if 
assenting to the truth of an enumeration, which quite 
doubled his army: 

“ It is a poor compliment to the vigilance of us sol¬ 
diers, monsieur, that, do what we will, we never can 
conceal our numbers. If it were to be done at all, one 
would believe it might succeed in these woods. Though 
you think it too soon to listen to the calls of humanity,” 
he added, smiling archly, “ I may be permitted to be¬ 
lieve that gallantry is not forgotten by one so young as 


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284 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


yourself. The daughters of the commandant, I learn, 
have passed into the fort since it was invested ? ” 

“ It is true, monsieur; but so far from weakening our 
efforts, they set us an example of courage in their own 
5 fortitude. Were nothing but resolution necessary to 
repel so accomplished a soldier as M. de Montcalm, I 
would gladly trust the defence of William Henry to the 
elder of those ladies.” 

“ We have a wise ordinance in our Salique laws, which 
10 says, ‘ The crown of France shall never degrade the lance 
to the distaff/” said Montcalm, dryly, and with a little 
hauteur; but, instantly adding, with his former frank 
and easy air, “ as all the nobler qualities are hereditary, 
I can easily credit you; though, as I said before, courage 
15 has its limits, and humanity must not be forgotten. I 
trust, monsieur, you come authorized to treat for the 
surrender of the place ? ” 

“ Has your excellency found our defence so feeble, as 
to believe the measure necessary ? ” 

20 “ I should be sorry to have the defence protracted in 

such a manner as to irritate my red friends there,” con¬ 
tinued Montcalm, glancing his eyes at the group of grave 
and attentive Indians, without attending to the other’s 
question; “ I find it difficult, even now, to limit them 
}5 to the usages of war.” 

Heyward was silent; for a painful recollection of the 
dangers he had so recently escaped, came over his mind, 
and recalled the images of those defenceless beings, who 
had shared in all his sufferings. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


285 


“ Ces messieurs-la,” 1 said Montcalm, following up 
the advantage which he conceived he had gained, “ are 
most formidable when baffled; and it is unnecessary to 
tell you with what difficulty they are restrained in their 
anger. Eh bien, monsieur! 2 shall we speak of the 5 
terms ? ” 

“ I fear your excellency has been deceived as to the 
strength of William Henry, and the resources of its 
garrison. ” 

“ I have not sat down before Quebec, but an earthen 10 
work that is defended by twenty-three hundred gallant 
men,” was the laconic reply. 

“ Our mounds are earthen, certainly — nor are they 
seated on the rocks of Cape Diamond ; — but they stand 
on that shore which proved so destructive to Dieskau, 15 
and his army. There is also a powerful force within a 
few hours’ march of us, which we account upon as part 
of our means.” 

“ Some six or eight thousand men,” returned Mont¬ 
calm, with much apparent indifference, “ whom their 20 
leader wisely -judges to be safer in their works than in 
the field.” 

It was now Heyward’s turn to bite his lip with vexa¬ 
tion, as the other so coolly alluded to a force which the 
young man knew to be overrated. Both mused a little 25 
while in silence, when Montcalm renewed the conversa¬ 
tion in a way that showed he believed the visit of his 
guest was solely to propose terms of capitulation. On 
1 “Those gentlemen, there.” 2 “Well, sir.” 


286 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


the other hand, Heyward began to throw sundry induce¬ 
ments in the way of the French general, to betray the 
discoveries he had made through the intercepted letter. 
The artifice of neither, however, succeeded; and, after a 
5 protracted and fruitless interview, Duncan took his 
leave, favorably impressed with an opinion of the cour¬ 
tesy and talents of the enemy’s captain, but as ignorant 
of what he came to learn, as when he arrived. Mont¬ 
calm followed him as far as the entrance of the marquee, 
10 renewing his invitations to the commandant of the fort 
to give him an immediate meeting in the open ground 
between the two armies. 

There they separated, and Duncan returned to the 
advanced post of the French, accompanied as before; 
15 whence he instantly proceeded to the fort, and to the 
quarters of his own commander. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


287 


CHAPTER XVI. 

Edg. Before you fight the battle, ope this letter. 

Shakspeare, King Lear. 

Major Heyward found Munro attended only by his 
daughters. Alice sat upon his knee, parting the gray 
hairs on the forehead of the old man, with her delicate 
fingers; and whenever he affected to frown on her tri¬ 
fling, appeasing his assumed anger by pressing her ruby 5 
lips fondly on his wrinkled brow. Cora was seated nigh 
them, a calm and amused looker-on; regarding the way¬ 
ward movements of her more youthful sister with that 
species of maternal fondness, which characterized her 
love for Alice. Not only the dangers through which 10 
they had passed, but those which still impended above 
them, appeared to be momentarily forgotten in the 
soothing indulgence of such a family meeting. It 
seemed as if they had profited by the short truce, to 
devote an instant to the purest and best affections; the is 
daughters forgetting their fears, and the veteran his 
cares, in the security of the moment. Of this scene, 
Duncan, who, in his eagerness to report his arrival, had 
entered unannounced, stood many moments an unob¬ 
served and a delighted spectator. But the quick and 20 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


. 288 ' 

dancing eyes of Alice soon caught a glimpse of his 
figure reflected from a glass, and she sprang blushing 
from her father’s knee, exclaiming aloud: 

“ Major Heyward ! ” 

5 “ What of the lad ? ” demanded her father; “ I have 

sent him to crack a little with the Frenchman. Ha! 
sir, you are young, and you’re nimble ! Away with you, 
ye baggage; as if there were not troubles enough for a 
soldier, without having his camp filled with such prat- 

10 tling hussies as yourself ! ” 

Alice laughingly followed her sister, who instantly 
led the way from an apartment, where she perceived 
their presence was no longer desirable. Munro, instead 
of demanding the result of the young man’s mission, 

15 paced the room for a few moments, with his hands 
behind his back and his head inclined towards the floor, 
like a man lost in thought. At length he raised his 
eyes, glistening with a father’s fondness, and ex¬ 
claimed : 

20 “They are a pair of excellent girls, Heyward, and 
such as any one may boast of.” 

“ You are not now to learn my opinion of your daugh¬ 
ters, Colonel Munro.” 

“ True, lad, true,” interrupted the impatient old man; 

25 “ you were about opening your mind more fully on that 
matter the day you got in; but I did not think it becom¬ 
ing in an old soldier to be talking of nuptial blessings 
and wedding jokes, when the enemies of his king were 
likely to be unbidden guests at the feast. But I was 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


289 


wrong, Duncan, boy, I was wrong there; and I am now 
ready to hear what you have to say.” 

“Notwithstanding the pleasure your assurance gives 
me, dear sir, I have just now a message from Montcalm — 

“ Let the Frenchman and all his host go to the devil, 5 
sir! ” exclaimed the hasty veteran. “ He is not yet 
master of William Henry, nor shall he ever be, provided 
Webb proves himself the man he should. No, sir, thank 
heaven, we are not yet in such a strait that it can be 
said Munro is too much pressed to discharge the little 10 
domestic duties of his own family. Your mother was 
the only child of my bosom friend, Duncan; and Fll 
just give you a hearing, though all the knights of St. 
Louis were in a body at the sally-port, with the French 
saint at their head, craving to speak a word under favor. 15 
A pretty degree of knighthood, sir, is that which can be 
bought with sugar-hogsheads! and then your two-penny 
marquisates! The thistle is the order for dignity and 
antiquity; the veritable ‘ nemo me imjpune lacessit ’ of 
chivalry! Ye had ancestors in that degree, Duncan, 20 
and they were an ornament to the nobles of Scotland.” 

Heyward, who perceived that his superior took a 
malicious pleasure in exhibiting his contempt for the 
message of the French general, was fain to humor a 
spleen that he knew would be short-lived; he, therefore, 25 
replied with as much indifference as he could assume on 
such a subject: 

“ My request, as you know, sir, went so far as to pre¬ 
sume to the honor of being your son.” 


290 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ Ay, boy, you found words to make yourself very 
plainly comprehended. But, let me ask ye, sir, have 
you been as intelligible to the girl ? ” 

“On my honor, no,” exclaimed Duncan, warmly; 
5 “there would have been an abuse of a confided trust, 
had I taken advantage of my situation for such a pur¬ 
pose ! ” 

“Your notions are those of a gentleman, Major Hey¬ 
ward, and well enough in their place. But Cora Munro 
10 is a maiden too discreet, and of a mind too elevated and 
improved to need the guardianship, even of a father.” 

“ Cora! ” 

“ Ay — Cora! we are talking of your pretensions to 
Miss Munro, are we not, sir ? ” 
i5 “I — I — I was not conscious of having mentioned 
her name,” said Duncan, stammering. 

“ And, to marry whom, then, did you wish my consent, 
Major Heyward?” demanded the old soldier, erecting 
himself in the dignity of offended feeling. 

20 “ You have another, and not less lovely child.” 

“ Alice! ” exclaimed the father, in an astonishment 
equal to that with which Duncan had just repeated the 
name of her sister. 

“ Such was the direction of my wishes, sir.” 

25 The young man awaited in silence the result of the 
extraordinary effect produced by a communication which, 
as it now appeared, was so unexpected. For several 
minutes Munro paced the chamber with long and rapid 
strides, his rigid features working convulsively, and 


TEE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


291 


every faculty seemingly absorbed in the musings of his 
own mind. At length, he paused directly in front of 
Heyward, and riveting his eyes upon those of the other, 
he said, with a lip that quivered violently with his 
emotions: 5 

“ Duncan Heyward, I have loved you for the sake of 
him whose blood is in your veins; I have loved you for 
your own good qualities; and I have loved you because 
I thought you would contribute to the happiness of my 
child. But all this love would turn to hatred, were 110 
assured that what I so much apprehend is true! ” 

“ God forbid that any thought or act of mine should 
lead to such a change! ” exclaimed the young man, 
whose eye never quailed under the penetrating look it 
encountered. Without adverting to the impossibility of 15 
the other’s comprehending those feelings which were hid 
in his own bosom, Munro suffered himself to be appeased 
by the unaltered countenance he met, and with a voice 
sensibly softened he continued : 

“ You would be my son, Duncan, and you’re ignorant 20 
of the history of the man you wish to call your father. 

Sit ye down, young man, and I will open to you the 
wounds of a seared heart, in as few words as may be 
suitable.” 

By this time, the message of Montcalm was as much 25 
forgotten by him who bore it, as by the man for whose 
ears it was intended. Each drew a chair, and while the 
veteran communed a few moments with his own thoughts, 
apparently in sadness, the youth suppressed his impa- 


292 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


tience in a look and attitude of respectful attention. At 
length, the former spoke : 

“ You’ll know already, Major Heyward, that my fam¬ 
ily was both ancient and honorable,” commenced the 
5 Scotsman, “ though it might not altogether be endowed 
with that amount of wealth that should correspond with 
its degree. I was, may be, such an one as yourself, 
when I plighted my faith to Alice Graham, the only 
child of a neighboring laird of some estate. But the 
10 connection was disagreeable to her father, on more 
accounts than my poverty. I did, therefore, what an 
honest man should, restored the maiden her troth, and 
departed the country in the service of my king. I had 
seen many regions, and had shed much blood in differ- 
15 ent lands, before duty called me to the islands of the 
West Indies. There it was my lot to form a connection 
with one who in time became my wife and the mother 
of Cora. She was the daughter of a gentleman of those 
isles, by a lady whose misfortune it was, if you will,” 
20 said the old man proudly, “to be descended remotely 
from that unfortunate class, who are so basely enslaved 
to administer to the wants of a luxurious people. Ay, 
sir, that is a curse entailed on Scotland by her unnatu¬ 
ral union with a foreign and trading people. But could 
25 I find a man among them, who would dare to reflect on 
my child, he should feel the weight of a father’s anger! 
Ha! Major Heyward, you are yourself born at the south, 
where these unfortunate beings are considered of a race 
inferior to your own.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


293 


“ ’Tis most unfortunately true, sir/’ said Duncan, un¬ 
able any longer to prevent his eyes from sinking to the 
floor in embarrassment. 

“And you cast it on my child as a reproach! You 
scorn to mingle the blood of the Heywards with one so 
degraded — lovely and virtuous though she be ? ” fiercely 
demanded the jealous parent. 

“Heaven protect me from a prejudice so unworthy of 
my reason ! ” returned Duncan, at the same time con¬ 
scious of such a feeling, and that as deeply rooted as if 
it had been ingrafted in his nature. “ The sweetness, 
the beauty, the witchery of your younger daughter, 
Colonel Munro, might explain my motives, without 
imputing to me this injustice.” 

“Ye are right, sir,” returned the old man, again chan¬ 
ging his tones to those of gentleness, or rather softness; 
“ the girl is the image of what her mother was at her 
years, and before she had become acquainted with grief. 
When death deprived me of my wife, I returned to Scot¬ 
land, enriched by the marriage ; and would you think it, 
Duncan? the suffering angel had remained in the heart¬ 
less state of celibacy twenty long years, and that for the 
sake of a man who could forget her ! She did more, sir; 
she overlooked my want of faith, and all difficulties being 
now removed, she took me for her husband.” 

“ And became the mother of Alice ! ” exclaimed Dun¬ 
can, with an eagerness that might have proved danger¬ 
ous at a moment when the thoughts of Munro were less 
occupied than at present. 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ She did, indeed,” said the old man, “ and dearly did 
she pay for the blessing she bestowed. But she is a 
saint in heaven, sir; and it ill becomes one whose foot 
rests on the grave to mourn a lot so blessed. I had her 
5 but a single year, though; a short term of happiness for 
one who had seen her youth fade in hopeless pining.” 

There was something so commanding in the distress of 
the old man that Heyward did not dare to venture a 
syllable of consolation. Munro sat utterly unconscious 
10 of the other’s presence, his features exposed and working 
with the anguish of his regrets, while heavy tears fell 
from his eyes and rolled unheeded from his cheeks to 
the floor. At length he moved, as if suddenly recover¬ 
ing his recollection ; when he arose, and taking a, single 
15 turn across the room, he approached his companion with 
an air of military grandeur, and demanded: 

“ Have you not, Major Heyward, some communication 
that I should hear from the Marquis de Montcalm ? ” 
Duncan started in his turn and immediately com- 
20 menced, in an embarrassed voice, the half-forgotten mes¬ 
sage. It is unnecessary to dwell upon the evasive, 
though polite, manner with which the French general 
had eluded every attempt of Heyward to worm from him 
the purport of the communication he had proposed mak- 
25 ing; or on the decided, though still polished, message 
by which he now gave his enemy to understand that un¬ 
less he chose to receive it in person he should not receive 
it at all. As Munro listened to the detail of Duncan, 
the excited feelings of the father gradually gave way 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


295 


before the obligations of his station, and when the other 
was done, he saw before him nothing but the veteran, 
swelling with the wounded feelings of a soldier. 

“ You have said enough, Major Heyward ! ” exclaimed 
the angry old man ; “ enough to make a volume of com¬ 
mentary on French civility. Here has this gentleman 
invited me to a conference, and, when I send him a capa¬ 
ble substitute, for ye’re all that, Duncan, though your 
years are but few, he answers me with a riddle.” 

“ He may have thought less favorably of the substitute, 
my dear sir; and you will remember that the invitation, 
which he now repeats, was to the commandant of the 
works and not to his second.” 

“Well, sir, is not a substitute clothed with all the 
power and dignity of him who grants the commission ? 
He wishes to confer with Munro! Faith, sir, I have 
much inclination to indulge the man, if it should only be 
to let him behold the firm countenance we maintain in 
spite of his numbers and his summons. There might be 
no bad policy in such a stroke, young man.” 

Duncan, who believed it of the last importance that 
they should speedily come at the contents of the letter 
borne by the scout, gladly encouraged this idea. 

“ Without doubt he could gather no confidence by 
witnessing our indifference,” he said. 

“ You never said truer word. I could wish, sir, that 
he would visit the works in open day, and in the form 
of a storming party: that is the least failing method of 
proving the countenance of an enemy, and would be far 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


296 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


preferable to the battering system he has chosen. The 
beauty and manliness of warfare has been much de¬ 
formed, Major Heyward, by the arts of your Monsieur 
Vauban. Our ancestors were far above such scientific 
5 cowardice.” 

"It may be very true, sir; but we are now obliged to 
repel art by art. What is your pleasure in the matter 
of the interview ? ” 

" I will meet the Frenchman, and that without fear or 
10 delay; promptly, sir, as becomes a servant of my royal 
master. Go, Major Heyward, and give them a flourish 
of the music, and send out a messenger to let them 
know who is coming. We will follow with a small 
guard, for such respect is due to one who holds the honor 
15 of his king in keeping; and, hark’ee, Duncan,” he added, 
in a half whisper, though they were alone, "it may be 
prudent to have some aid at hand, in case there should 
be treachery at the bottom of it all.” 

The young man availed himself of this order to quit 
20 the apartment; and, as the day was fast coming to a 
close, he hastened without delay to make the necessary 
arrangements. A very few minutes only were necessary 
to parade a few files, and to despatch an orderly with a 
flag to announce the approach of the commandant of the 
25 fort. When Duncan had done both these, he led the 
guard to the sally-port, near which he found his superior 
ready, waiting his appearance. As soon as the usual 
ceremonials of a military departure were observed, the 
veteran and his more youthful companion left the for- 
30 tress, attended by the escort. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


297 


They had proceeded only a hundred yards from the 
works, when the little array which attended the French 
general to the conference was seen issuing from the hol¬ 
low way which formed the bed of a brook, that ran 
between the batteries of the besiegers and the fort. 
From the moment that Munro left his own works, to 
appear in front of his enemies, his air had been grand 
and his step and countenance highly military. The in¬ 
stant he caught a glimpse of the white plume that waved 
in the hat of Montcalm, his eye lighted, and age no 
longer appeared to possess any influence over his vast 
and still muscular person. 

“ Speak to the boys to be watchful, sir,” he said, in an 
under tone, to Duncan; “ and to look well to their flints 
and steel, for one is never safe with a servant of these 
Louis ; at the same time, we will show them the front 
of men in deep security. Ye’ll understand me, Major 
Heyward.” 

He was interrupted by the clamor of a drum from 
the approaching Frenchmen, which was immediately an¬ 
swered, when each party pushed an orderly in advance, 
bearing a white flag, and the wary Scotsman halted, 
with his guard close at his back. As soon as this slight 
salutation had passed, Montcalm moved towards them 
with a quick but graceful step, baring his head to the 
veteran, and dropping his spotless plume nearly to the 
earth, in courtesy. If the air of Munro was more com¬ 
manding and manly, it wanted both the ease and insin¬ 
uating polish of the Frenchman. Neither spoke for a 


5 

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15 

20 

25 


m 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


few moments, each regarding the other with curious and 
interested eyes. Then, as became his superior rank and 
the nature of the interview, Montcalm broke the silence. 
After uttering the usual words of greeting, he turned to 
5 Duncan, and continued, with a smile of recognition, 
speaking always in French: 

“ I am rejoiced, monsieur, that you have given us the 
pleasure of your company on this occasion. There will 
be no necessity to employ an ordinary interpreter, for in 
10 your hands I feel the same security, as if I spoke your 
language myself.” 

Duncan acknowledged the compliment, when Mont¬ 
calm, turning to his guard, which, in imitation of that of 
their enemies, pressed close upon him, continued: 

15 “ En arriere, mes enfans — il fait chaud ; retirez-vous 

un peu.” 1 

Before Major Heyward would imitate this proof of 
confidence, he glanced his eyes around the plain and 
beheld, with uneasiness, the numerous dusky groups of 
20 savages, who looked out from the margin of the sur¬ 
rounding woods, curious spectators of the pending inter¬ 
view. 

“ Monsieur de Montcalm will readily acknowledge the 
difference in our situation,” he said, with some embar- 
25 rassment, pointing at the same time towards those dan¬ 
gerous foes, who were to be seen in almost every direction. 
“ Were we to dismiss our guard, we should stand here at 
the mercy of our enemies.” 

i “Fall back, boys—it is warm ; retire a little.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


299 


“ Monsieur, you have the plighted faith of ‘ un gentil- 
homme franqais ’ 1 for your safety,’’ returned Montcalm, 
laying his hand impressively on his heart; “it should 
suffice.” 

“ It shall. Fall back,” Duncan added to the officer 5 
who led the escort; “ fall back, sir, beyond hearing, and 
wait for orders.” 

Munro witnessed this movement with manifest uneasi¬ 
ness ; nor did he fail to demand an instant explanation. 

“ Is it not our interest, sir, to betray no distrust ? ” 10 
retorted Duncan. “ Monsieur de Montcalm pledges his 
word for our safety, and I have ordered the men to with¬ 
draw a little, in order to prove how much we depend on 
his assurance.” 

“ It may be all right, sir, but I have no overweening 15 
reliance on the faith of these marquesses, or marquises, 
as they call themselves. Their patents of nobility are 
too common to be certain that they bear the seal of true 
honor.” 

“ You forget, dear sir, that we confer with an officer 20 
distinguished alike in Europe and America for his deeds. 
From a soldier of his reputation we can have nothing to 
apprehend.” 

The old man made a gesture of resignation, though 
his rigid features still betrayed his obstinate adherence 25 
to a distrust, which he derived from a sort of hereditary 
contempt of his enemy, rather than from any present 
signs, which might warrant so uncharitable a feeling. 

1 “A French gentleman.” 


800 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Montcalm waited patiently until this little dialogue in 
demi-voice was ended, when he drew nigher, and opened 
the subject of their conference. 

“ I have solicited this interview from your superior) 

5 monsieur,” he said, “ because I believe he will allow him¬ 
self to be persuaded that he has already done everything 
which is necessary for the honor of his prince, and will 
now listen to the admonitions of humanity. I will for¬ 
ever bear testimony that his resistance has been gallant, 
10 and was continued so long as there was hope.” 

When this opening was translated to Munro, he an¬ 
swered with dignity, but with sufficient courtesy: 

“ However I may prize such testimony from Monsieur 
Montcalm, it will be more valuable when it shall be 
15 better merited.” 

The French general smiled, as Duncan gave him the 
purport of this reply, and observed: 

“ What is now so freely accorded to approved courage, 
may be refused to useless obstinacy. Monsieur would 
20 wish to see my camp, and witness for himself our num¬ 
bers and the impossibility of his resisting them with 
success ? ” 

“ I know that the king of France is well served,” re¬ 
turned the unmoved Scotsman, as soon as Duncan ended 
25 his translation; “ but my own royal master has as many 
and as faithful troops.” 

“ Though not at hand, fortunately for us,” said Mont* 
calm, without waiting, in his ardor, for the intrepreter. 
“ There is a destiny in war, to which a brave man knows 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


301 


how to submit with the same courage that he faces his 
foes.” 

“ Had I been conscious that Monsieur Montcalm was 
master of the English, I would have spared myself the 
trouble of so awkward a translation,” said the vexed 5 
Duncan, dryly; remembering instantly his recent by-play 
with Munro. 

“Your pardon, monsieur,” rejoined the Frenchman, 
suffering a slight color to appear on his dark cheek. 

“ There is a vast difference between understanding and 10 
speaking a foreign tongue; you will, therefore, please 
to assist me still.” Then, after a short pause, he added, 
“These hills afford us every opportunity of reconnoi¬ 
tring your works, messieurs, and I am possibly as well 
acquainted with their weak condition as you can be if 
yourselves.” 

“ Ask the French general if his glasses can reach to 
the Hudson,” said Munro, proudly ; “ and if he knows 
when and where to expect the army of Webb.” . 

“ Let General Webb be his own intrepreter,” return- 20 
ed the politic Montcalm, suddenly extending an open 
letter towards Munro, as he spoke ; “ you will there learn, 
monsieur, that his movements are not likely to prove 
embarrassing to my army.” 

The veteran seized the offered paper without waiting 25 
for Duncan to translate the speech, and with an eager¬ 
ness that betrayed how important he deemed its con¬ 
tents. As his eye passed hastily over the words, his 
countenance changed from its look of military pride, to 


1 


302 JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 

one of deep chagrin; his lip began to quiver ; and, suf¬ 
fering the paper to fall from his hand, his head dropped 
upon his chest, like that of a man whose hopes were 
withered at a single blow. Duncan caught the letter 
5 from the ground, and, without apology for the liberty he 
took, he read at a glance its cruel purport. Their com¬ 
mon superior, so far from encouraging them to resist, 
advised a speedy surrender, urging, in the plainest lan¬ 
guage a reason, the utter impossibility of his sending a 
10 single man to their rescue. 

“ Here is no deception ! ” exclaimed Duncan, examin¬ 
ing the billet both inside and out; “ this is the signature 
of Webb, and must be the captured letter.” 

“The man has betrayed me!” Munro at length bit- 
15 terly exclaimed; “he has brought dishonor to the door 
of one, where disgrace was never before known to dwell, 
and shame has he heaped heavily on my gray hairs! ” 

“ Say not so ! ” cried Duncan; “ we are yet masters of 
the fort and of our honor! Let us then sell our lives 
20 at such a rate as shall make our enemies believe the 
purchase too dear.” 

“ Boy, I thank thee ! ” exclaimed the old man, rousing 
himself from his stupor; “ j^ou have, for once, reminded 
Munro of his duty. We will go back, and dig our graves 
25 behind those ramparts.” 

“ Messieurs,” said Montcalm, advancing towards them 
a step, in generous interest; “ you little know Louis de 
St. Veran, if you believe him capable of profiting by 
this letter, to humble brave men, or to build up a dis- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


303 


honest reputation for himself. Listen to my terms 
before you leave me.” 

“ What says the Frenchman ? ” demanded the veteran, 
sternly; “ does he make a merit of having captured a 
scout, with a note from headquarters ? Sir, he had 
better raise this siege, to go and sit down before Edward, 
if he wishes to frighten his enemy with words.” 

Duncan explained the other’s meaning. 

“ Monsieur de Montcalm, we will hear you,” the 
veteran added more calmly, as Duncan ended. 

“ To retain the fort is now impossible,” said his liberal 
enemy; “ it is necessary to the interests of my master, 
that it should be destroyed; but, as for yourselves and 
your brave comrades, there is no privilege dear to a 
soldier that shall be denied.” 

“ Our colors ? ” demanded Heyward. 

“ Carry them to England and show them to your 
king.” 

“ Our arms ? ” 

“ Keep them; none can use them better.” 

“ Our march; the surrender of the place ? ” 

“ Shall be done in a way most honorable to yourselves.” 

Duncan now turned to explain these proposals to his 
commander, who heard, him with amazement, and a sen¬ 
sibility that was deeply touched by such unusual and 
unexpected generosity. 

“ Go you, Duncan,” he said ; “ go with this marquess, 
as indeed marquess he should be; go to his marquee, 
and arrange it all. I have lived to see two things in my 


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20 

25 


304 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


old age, that never did I expect to behold: an English¬ 
man afraid to support a friend, and a Frenchman too 
honest to profit by his advantage! ” 

So saying, the veteran again dropped his head to his 
5 chest, and returned slowly towards the fort, exhibiting, 
by the dejection of his air, to the anxious garrison, a 
harbinger of evil tidings. 

From the shock of this unexpected blow the haughty 
feelings of Munro never recovered; but from that 
10 moment there commenced a change in his determined 
character, which accompanied him to a speedy grave. 
Duncan remained to settle the terms of the capitulation. 
He was seen to re-enter the works during the first 
watches of the night, and, immediately after a private 
15 conference with the commandant, to leave them again. 
It was then openly announced that hostilities must 
cease — Munro having signed a treaty by which the 
place was to be yielded to the enemy with the morning; 
the garrison to retain their arms, their colors, and their 
20 baggage, and consequently, according to military opinion, 
their honor. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


m 


CHAPTER XVII. 

Weave we the woof. The thread is spun. 

The weh is wove. The work is done. 

Gray, The Bard. 

The hostile armies which lay in the wilds of the 
Horican, passed the night of the ninth of August, 1757 , 
much in the manner they would, had they encountered 
on the fairest fields of Europe. While the conquered 
were still, sullen, and dejected, the victors triumphed. 5 
But there are limits alike to grief and joy 5 and long 
before the watches of the morning came, the stillness of 
those boundless woods was only broken by a gay call 
from some exulting young Frenchman of the advanced 
pickets, or a menacing challenge from the fort, which 10 
sternly forbade the approach of any hostile footsteps 
before the stipulated moment. Even these occasional 
threatening sounds ceased to be heard in that dull hour 
which precedes the day, at which period a listener might 
have sought in vain any evidence of the presence of lo 
those armed powers, that then slumbered on the shores 
of the “holy lake.” 

It was during these moments of deep silence that the 
canvas which concealed the entrance to a spacious mar- 


306 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


quee in the French encampment was shoved aside, and a 
man issued from beneath the drapery into the open air, 
He was enveloped in a cloak that might have been in¬ 
tended as a protection from the chilling damps of the 
5 woods, but which served equally well as a mantle to 
conceal his person. He was permitted to pass the grena¬ 
dier, who watched over the slumbers of the French 
commander, without interruption, the man making the 
usual salute, which betokens military deference, as the 
10 other passed swiftly through the little city of tents 
in the direction of William Henry. Whenever this 
unknown individual encountered one of the number¬ 
less sentinels who crossed his path, his answer was 
prompt, and as it appeared satisfactory; for he was 
15 uniformly allowed to proceed without further interro¬ 
gation. 

With the exception of such repeated, but brief inter¬ 
ruption, he had moved silently from the centre of the 
camp to its most advanced outposts, when he drew nigh 
20 the soldier, who held his watch nearest to the works of 
the enemy. As he approached, he was received with the 
usual challenge. 

“ Qui vive ? ” 1 

“ France,” was the reply. 

25 “ Le mot d’ordre ? ” 2 

““La victoire,” 8 said the other, drawing so nigh, as to 
be heard in a loud whisper. 

“(Test bien,” returned the sentinel, throwing hi*s 
* '“Who is there? ” 2 “ Countersign?” 8 “ Victory.*' 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


307 


musket from the charge to his shoulder; “vous vous 
promenez bien matin, monsieur! ” 1 

“ II est necessaire d’etre vigilant, mon enfant,” 2 * * the 
other observed, dropping a fold of his cloak, and looking 
the soldier close in the face, as he passed him, still con- 5 
tinuing his way towards the British fortification. The 
man started; his arms rattled heavily, as he threw them 
forward in the lowest and most respectful salute; and 
when he had again recovered his piece, he turned to 
walk his post, muttering between his teeth, 10 

“ II faut etre vigilant, en verite ! je crois que nous 
avons la, un caporal qui ne dort jamais! ” 8 

The officer proceeded, without affecting to hear the 
words which escaped the sentinel in his surprise; nor 
did he again pause, until he had reached the low strand, 15 
and in a somewhat dangerous vicinity to the western 
water bastion of the fort. The light of an obscure 
moon, was just sufficient to render objects, though dim, 
perceptible in their outlines. He, therefore, took the 
precaution to place himself against the trunk of a tree, 20 
where he leaned for many minutes, and seemed to con¬ 
template the dark and silent mounds of the English 
works, in profound attention. His gaze at the ramparts 
was not that of a curious or idle spectator; but his looks 
wandered from point to point, denoting his knowledge 25 

1 “All right; you are taking a walk early, sir.” 

2 “It is necessary to be vigilant, my boy.” 

8 In truth, one must be vigilant! I believe we have a corporal 

there who never goes to sleep.” 


808 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


of military usages, and betraying that his search was 
not unaccompanied by distrust. At length he appeared 
satisfied; and having cast his eyes impatiently upward 
towards the summit of the eastern mountain, as if an- 
5 ticipating the approach of the morning, he was in the 
act of turning on his footsteps, when a light sound on 
the nearest angle of the bastion, caught his ear and 
induced him to remain. 

Just then a figure was seen to approach the edge of 
10 the rampart, where it stood, apparently contemplating in 
its turn the distant tents of the French encampment. 
Its head was then turned towards the east, as though 
equally anxious for the appearance of light, when the 
form leaned against the mound and seemed to gaze upon 
15 the glassy expanse of the waters, which, like a subma¬ 
rine firmament, glittered with its thousand mimic stars. 
The melancholy air, the hour, together with the vast 
frame of the man who thus leaned, in musing, against the 
English ramparts, left no doubt as to his person, in the 
20 mind of the observant spectator. Delicacy, no less than 
prudence, now urged him to retire; and he had moved 
cautiously round the body of the tree, for that purpose, 
when another sound drew his attention, and once more 
arrested his footsteps. It was a low, and almost inaudi- 
25 ble movement of the water, and was succeeded by a 
grating of pebbles, one against the other. In a moment 
he saw a dark form rise, as it were, out of the lake, and 
steal without farther noise to the land, within a few feet 
of the place where he himself stood. A rifle next slowly 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


309 


rose between his eyes and the watery mirror; bat before 
it could be discharged, his own hand was on the lock. 

“ Hugh ! ” exclaimed the savage, whose treacherous 
aim was so singularly and so unexpectedly interrupted. 

Without making any reply the French officer laid his fi 
hand on the shoulder of the Indian, and led him in pro¬ 
found silence to a distance from the spot, where their 
subsequent dialogue might have proved dangerous, and 
where, it seemed, that one of them, at least, sought a 
victim. Then, throwing open his cloak, so as to expose 10 
his uniform, and the cross of St. Louis, which was sus¬ 
pended at his breast, Montcalm sternly demanded: 

“ What means this ? does not my son know that the 
hatchet is buried between the English and his Canadian 
father ? ” 15 

“ What can the Hurons do ? 99 returned the savage, 
speaking, also, though imperfectly, in the French lan¬ 
guage. “Not a warrior has a scalp, and the pale faces 
make friends ! ” 

“ Ha ! Le Renard Subtil! Methinks this is an excess 20 
‘of zeal for a friend, who was so late an enemy! How 
many suns have set, since Le Renard struck the w r ar post 
of the English ? ” 

“ Where is that sun ? ” demanded the sullen savage. 

“ Behind the hill, and it is dark and cold. But when he 25 
comes again, it will be bright and warm. Le Subtil is 
the sun of his tribe. There have been clouds and many 
mountains between him and his nation ; but now he 
shines, and it is a clear sky! 99 


810 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“That Le Renard has power with his people, I well 
know,” said Montcalm ; “ for yesterday he hunted for 
their scalps, and to-day they hear him at the council 
fire.” 

5 “ Magua is a great chief.” 

“ Let him prove it by teaching his nation how to com 
duct itself towards our new friends.” 

“ Why did the chief of the Canadas bring his young 
men into the woods, and fire his cannon at the earthen 
10 house ? ” demanded the subtle Indian. 

“ To subdue it. My master owns the land, and your 
father was ordered to drive off these English squatters. 
They have consented to go, and now he calls them ene¬ 
mies no longer.” 

15 “ ’Tis well. Magua took the hatchet to color it with 

blood. It is now bright; when it is red, it shall be 
buried.” 

“ But Magua is pledged not to sully the lilies of 
France. The enemies of the great king across the salt 
20 lake, are his enemies; his friends, the friends of the 
Hurons.” 

“ Friends ! ” repeated the Indian, in scorn. “ Let his 
father give Magua a hand.” 

Montcalm, who felt that his influence over the war 
25 like tribes he had gathered, was to be maintained by 
concession, rather than by power, complied reluctantly 
with the other’s request. The savage placed the finger 
of the French commander on a deep scar in his bosom, 
and then exultingly demanded : 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


311 


u Does my father know that ? 77 

u What warrior does not ? 7 tis where the leaden bullet 
has cut. 77 

“ And this ! 77 continued the Indian, who had turned 
his naked back to the other, his body being without its 
usual calico mantle. 

“ This ! — my son, has been sadly injured, here. Who 
has done this ? 77 

“ Magua slept hard in the English wigwams, and the 
sticks have left their mark/ 7 returned the savage with a 
hollow laugh, which did not conceal the fierce temper 
that nearly choked him. Then, recollecting himself, 
with sudden and native dignity he added — “ Go; teach 
your young men it is peace ! Le Eenard Subtil knows 
how to speak to a Huron warrior. 77 

Without deigning to bestow further words, or to wait 
for any answer, the savage cast his rifle into the hollow 
of his arm, and moved silently through the encampment 
towards the woods, where his own tribe was known to 
lie. Every few yards as he proceeded he was challenged 
by the sentinels ; but he stalked sullenly onward, utterly 
disregarding the summons of the soldiers, who only 
spared his life, because they knew the air and tread, no 
less than the obstinate daring, of an Indian. 

Montcalm lingered long and melancholy on the strand, 
where he had been left by his companion, brooding 
deeply on the temper which his ungovernable ally had 
just discovered. Already had his fair fame been tar¬ 
nished by one horrid scene, and in circumstances fear- 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


fully resembling those under which he now found 
himself. As he mused, he became keenly sensible of the 
deep responsibility they assume who disregard the 
means to attain their end, and of all the danger of set- 
5 ting in motion an engine, which it exceeds human power 
to control. Then, shaking off a train of reflections, that 
he accounted a weakness in such a moment of triumph, 
he retraced his steps towards his tent, giving the order, 
as he passed, to make the signal that should call the 
10 army from its slumbers. 

The first tap of the French drums was echoed from 
the bosom of the fort; and presently the valley was 
filled with the strains of martial music, rising long, 
thrilling, and lively above the rattling accompaniment. 
15 The horns of the victors sounded merry and cheerful 
flourishes, until the last laggard of the camp was at his 
post; but the instant the British fifes had blown their 
shrill signal, they became mute. In the meantime the 
day had dawned, and when the line of the French army 
20 was ready to receive its general, the rays of a brilliant 
sun were glancing along its glittering array. Then that 
success which was already so well known, was officially 
announced; the favored band who were selected to 
guard the gates of the fort, were detailed, and defiled 
25 before their chief; the signal of their approach was 
given and all the usual preparations for a change of 
masters, were ordered and executed directly under the 
guns of the contested works. 

A very different scene presented itself within the lines 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


313 


of the Anglo-American army. As soon as the warning 
signal was given, it exhibited all the signs of a hurried 
and forced departure. The sullen soldiers shouldered 
their empty tubes and fell into their places, like men 
whose blood had been heated by the past contest, and 5 
who only desired the opportunity to revenge an indignity, 
which was still wounding to their pride, concealed as 
it was under all the observances of military etiquette. 
Women and children ran from place to place, some 
bearing the scanty remnants of their baggage, and others 10 
searching in the ranks for those countenances they 
looked up to for protection. 

Munro appeared among his silent troops, firm, but de¬ 
jected. It was evident that the unexpected blow had 
struck deep into his heart, though he struggled to sus -15 
tain his misfortune with the port of a man. 

Duncan was touched at the quiet and impressive ex¬ 
hibition of his grief. He had discharged his own duty, 
and he now pressed to the side of the old man to know 
m what particular he might serve him. 20 

“ My daughters,” was the brief, but expressive reply. 

“ Good heavens! Are not arrangements already made 
for their convenience ? ” 

“ To-day I am only a soldier, Major Heyward/’ said 
the veteran. “ All that you see here, claim alike to be 25 
my children.” 

Duncan had heard enough. Without losing one of 
those moments which had now become so precious, he 
flew towards the quarters of Munro in quest of the 


314 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


sisters. He found them on the threshold of the low 
edifice, already prepared to depart, and surrounded by a 
clamorous and weeping assemblage of their own sex, 
that had gathered about the place, with a sort of in- 
5 stinctive consciousness, that it was the point most likely 
to be protected. Though the cheeks of Cora were pale 
and her countenance anxious, she had lost none of her 
firmness; but the eyes of Alice were inflamed, and be¬ 
trayed how long and bitterly she had wept. They both, 
10 however, received the young man with undisguised 
pleasure; the former, for a novelty, being the first to 
speak. 

“ The fort is lost,” she said, with a melancholy smile; 
“ though our good name, I trust, remains.” 

15 “’Tis brighter than ever. But, dearest Miss Munro, 
it is time to think less of others and to make some pro¬ 
vision for yourself. Military usage — pride — that pride 
on which you so much value yourself, demands that 
your father and I should, for a little while continue with 
20 the troops. Then where to seek a proper protector for 
you against the confusion and chances of such a scene ? ” 
“None is necessary,” returned Cora; “who will dare 
to injure or insult the daughter of such a father at a 
time like this ? ” 

25 “ I would not leave you alone,” continued the youth, 

looking about him in a hurried manner, “for the com¬ 
mand of the best regiment in the pay of the king. Re¬ 
member, our Alice is not gifted with all your firmness, 
and God only knows the terror she might endure.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


315 


“You may be right,” Cora replied, smiling again, but 
far more sadly than before. “ Listen ! chance has al¬ 
ready sent us a friend when he is most needed.” 

Duncan did listen, and on the instant comprehended 
her meaning. The low, and serious sounds of the sacred 
music, so well known to the eastern provinces, caught 
his ear, and instantly drew him to an apartment in an 
adjacent building, which had already been deserted by 
its customary tenants. There he found David, pouring 
out his pious feeling through the only medium in which 
he ever indulged. Duncan waited, until by the cessa¬ 
tion of the movement of the hand he believed the strain 
was ended, when, by touching his shoulder, he drew the 
attention of the other to himself, and in a few words 
explained his wishes. 

“ Even so,” replied the single-minded disciple of the 
King of Israel, when the young man had ended ; “I 
have found much that is comely and melodious in the 
maidens, and it is fitting that we, who have consorted in 
so much peril, should abide together in peacb. I will 
attend them when I have completed my morning praise, 
to which nothing is now wanting but the doxology. 
Wilt thou bear a part, friend ? The metre is common, 
and the tune ‘ Southwell/ ” 

Then, extending the little volume, and giving the 
pitch of the air anew with considerate attention, David 
recommenced and finished his strains with a fixedness 
of manner that it was not easy to interrupt. Heyward 
was fain to wait until the verse was ended; when, seeing 


5 

10 

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816 


JAMES FENIM ORE COOPER 


David relieving himself from the spectacles and replac¬ 
ing the book, he continued : 

“ It will be your duty, to see that none dare to 
approach the ladies with any rude intention, or to offei 
5 insult or taunt at the misfortune of their brave father. 
In this task you will be seconded by the domestics of 
their household.” 

“ Even so.” 

“ It is possible, that the Indians and stragglers of the 
10 enemy may intrude; in which case you will remind 
them of the terms of the capitulation, and threaten to re¬ 
port their conduct to Montcalm. A word will suffice.” 

“ If not, I have that here which shall,” returned 
David, exhibiting his book, with an air, in which meek- 
15 ness and confidence were singularly blended. “ Here 
are words, which uttered, or rather thundered, with 
proper emphasis, and in measured time, shall quiet the 
most unruly temper: 

‘ Why rage the heathen furiously ? ’ ” 

20 “ Enough,” said Heyward, interrupting the burst of 

his musical invocation ; “ we understand each other; it is 
time that we should now assume our respective duties.” 

Gamut cheerfully assented, and together they im¬ 
mediately sought the maidens. Cora received her new 
25 and somewhat extraordinary protector courteously at 
least; and even the pallid features of Alice lighted again 
with some of their native archness, as she thanked Hey¬ 
ward for his care. Duncan took occasion to assure them 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 317 

he had done the best that circumstances permitted, and, 
as he believed, quite enough for the security of their 
feelings; of danger there was none. He then spoke 
gladly of his intention to rejoin them the moment he 
had led the advance a few miles towards the Hudson, 
and immediately took his leave. 

By this time the signal of departure had been given, 
and the head of the English column was in motion. 
The sisters started at the sound, and glancing their eyes 
around they saw the white uniforms of the French gren¬ 
adiers, who had already taken possession of the gates of 
the fort. At that moment an enormous cloud seemed to 
pass suddenly above their heads, and, looking upward, 
they discovered that they stood beneath the wide folds 
of the standard of France. 

“ Let us go,” said Cora; “ this is no longer a fit place 
for the children of an English officer.” 

Alice clung to the arm of her sister, and together they 
left the parade, accompanied by the moving throng that 
still surrounded them. 

As they passed the gates, the French officers, who had 
learned their rank, bowed often and low, forbearing, 
however, to intrude those attentions, which they saw, 
with peculiar tact, might not be agreeable. As every 
vehicle and each beast of burthen was occupied by the 
sick and wounded, Cora had decided to endure the 
fatigues of a foot march rather than interfere with 
their comforts. Indeed, many a maimed and feeble sol¬ 
dier was compelled to drag his exhausted limbs in the 


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318 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


rear of the columns, for the want of the necessary means 
of conveyance in that wilderness. The whole, however, 
was in motion ; the weak and wounded, groaning, and in 
suffering; their comrades, silent, and sullen; and the 
5 women and children in terror, they knew not of what. 

As the confused and timid throng left the protecting 
mounds of the fort and issued on the open plain, the 
whole scene was at once presented to their eyes. At a 
little distance on the right, and somewhat in the rear, 
10 the French army stood to their arms, Montcalm having 
collected his parties so soon as his guards had posses¬ 
sion of the works. They were attentive but silent ob¬ 
servers of the proceedings of the vanquished, failing in. 
none of the stipulated military honors, and offering no 
15 taunt or insult, in their success, to their less fortunate 
foes. Living masses of the English, to the amount in 
the whole of near three thousand, were moving slowly 
across the plain, towards the common centre, and gradu¬ 
ally approached each other, as they Converged to the 
20 point of their march, a vista cut through the lofty trees, 
where the road to the Hudson entered the forest. Along 
the sweeping borders of the woods hung a dark cloud 
of savages, eying the passage of their enemies, and hov¬ 
ering at a distance like vultures, who were only kept 
25 from stooping on their prey by the presence and re¬ 
straint of a superior army. A few had straggled among 
the conquered columns, where they stalked in sullen dis¬ 
content ; attentive, though, as yet, passive observers of 
all that moving multitude. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


319 


The advance, with Heyward at its head, had already 
reached the defile, and was slowly disappearing, when 
the attention of Cora was drawn to a collection of strag¬ 
glers by the sounds of contention. A truant provincial 
was paying the forfeit of his disobedience, by being 5 
plundered of those very effects which had caused him 
to desert his place in the ranks. The man was of pow¬ 
erful frame, and too avaricious to part with his goods 
without a struggle. Individuals from either party inter¬ 
fered ; the one side to prevent, and the other to aid in, 10 
the robbery. Voices grew loud and angry, and a hun¬ 
dred savages appeared, as it were by magic, where a 
dozen only had been seen, a few minutes before. It was 
then that Cora saw the form of Magua, gliding among 
his countrymen, and speaking with his fatal and artful 15 
eloquence. The mass of women and children stopped, 
and hovered together, like alarmed and fluttering birds. 
But the cupidity of the Indian was soon gratified, and 
the different bodies again moved slowly onward. 

The savages now fell back, and seemed content to 20 
let their enemies advance without further molestation. 
But as the female crowd approached them, the gaudy 
colors of a shawl attracted the eyes of a wild and 
untutored Huron. He advanced to seize it without 
the least hesitation. The woman more in terror than 25 
through love of the ornament, wrapped her child in the 
coveted article and folded both more closely to her 
bosom. Cora was in the act of speaking, with an intent 
to advise the woman to abandon the trifle, when the sav- 


320 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


age relinquished his hold of the shawl, and tore the 
screaming infant from her arms. Abandoning every¬ 
thing to the greedy grasp of those around her, the 
mother darted, with distraction in her mien, to reclaim 
5 her child. The Indian smiled grimly and extended one 
hand, the sign of a willingness to exchange, while with 
the other he flourished the babe over his head, holding 
it by the feet, as if to enhance the value of the ransom. 
“ Here — here — there — all — any — everything ! ” 
10 exclaimed the breathless woman; tearing the lighter 
articles of dress from her person, with ill-directed and 
trembling fingers : “ Take all, but give me my babe ! ” 
The savage spurned the worthless rags, and, perceiv¬ 
ing that the shawl had already become a prize to another, 
15 his bantering but sullen smile, changing to a gleam of 
ferocity, he dashed the head of the infant against a rock 
and cast its quivering remains to her very feet. For an 
instant, the mother stood, like a statue of despair, looking 
wildly down at the unseemly object which had so lately 
20 nestled in her bosom and smiled in her face; and then 
she raised her eyes and countenance towards heaven, as 
if calling on God to curse the perpetrator of the foul 
deed. She was spared the sin of such a prayer; for, 
maddened at his disappointment, and excited by the 
25 sight of blood, the Huron mercifully drove his toma¬ 
hawk into her own brain. The mother sank under the 
blow, and fell, grasping at her child, in death, with the 
same engrossing love that had caused her to cherish it 
when living. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


321 


At that dangerous moment Magua placed his hands 
to his mouth, and raised the fatal and appalling whoop. 
The scattered Indians started at the well-known cry, 
as coursers bound at the signal to quit the goal; and, 
directly, there arose such a yell along the plain, and 5 
through the arches of the wood, as seldom burst from 
human lips before. They who heard it listened with 
a curdling horror at the heart, little inferior to that 
dread which may be expected to attend the blasts of 
the final summons. 10 

More than two thousand raging savages broke from 
the forest at the signal, and threw themselves across the 
fatal plain with instinctive alacrity. We shall not dwell 
on the revolting horrors that succeeded. Death was 
everywhere, and in his most terrific and disgusting as-15 
pects. Resistance only served to inflame the murderers, 
who inflicted their furious blows long after their victims 
were beyond the power of their resentment. The flow 
of blood might be likened to the outbreaking of a tor¬ 
rent ; and, as the natives became heated and maddened 20 
by the sight, many among them even kneeled to the 
earth, and drank freely, exultingly, hellishly, of the 
crimson tide. 

The trained bodies of the troops threw themselves 
quickly into solid masses, endeavoring to awe their as- 25 
sailants by the imposing appearance of a military front. 
The experiment in some measure succeeded, though far 
too many suffered their unloaded muskets to be torn from 
their hands in the vain hope of appeasing the savages. 


322 


■JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


In such a scene, none had leisure to note the fleeting 
moments. It might have been ten minutes (it seemed 
an age), that the sisters had stood riveted to one spot, 
horror-stricken and nearly helpless. When the first 
5 blow was struck, their screaming companions had pressed 
upon them in a body, rendering flight impossible; and 
now that fear or death had scattered most, if not all, 
from around them, they saw no avenue open but such 
as conducted to the tomahawks of their foes. On every 
to side arose shrieks, groans, exhortations, and curses. At 
this moment, Alice caught a glimpse of the vast form of 
her father, moving rapidly across the plain in the direc¬ 
tion of the French army. He was, in truth, proceeding 
to Montcalm, fearless of every danger, to claim the tardy 
15 escort, for which he had before conditioned. Fifty glit¬ 
tering axes, and barbed spears, were offered unheeded at 
his life, but the savages respected his rank and calmness, 
even in their fury. The dangerous weapons were brushed 
aside by the still nervous arm of the veteran, or fell of 
20 themselves, after menacing an act that it would seem no 
one had courage to perform. Fortunately the vindictive 
Magua was searching his victim in the very band the 
veteran had just quitted. 

“ Father — father — we are here ! ” shrieked Alice, 
25 as he passed, at no great distance, without appearing to 
heed them. “ Come to us, father, or we die l ” 

The cry was repeated, and in terms and tones, that 
might have melted a heart of stone, but it was unan¬ 
swered. Once, indeed, the old man appeared to catch 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


323 


the sounds, for he paused, and listened; but Alice had 
dropped senseless on the earth, and Cora had sunk at 
her side, hovering in untiring tenderness, over her life¬ 
less form. Munro shook his head, in disappointment, 
and proceeded, bent on the high duty of his responsible 
station. 

“ Lady,” said Gamut, who, helpless and useless as he 
was, had not yet dreamed of deserting his trust, “ it is 
the jubilee of the devils, and this is not a meet place for 
Christians to tarry in. Let us up and fly ! ” 

“ Go,” said Cora, still gazing at her unconscious sister; 
“save thyself. To me thoucanst not be of further use.” 

David comprehended the unyielding character of her 
resolution, by the simple, but expressive, gesture, that 
accompanied her words. He gazed, for a moment, at the 
dusky forms that were acting their hellish rites on every 
side of him, and his tall person grew more erect, while 
his chest heaved, and every feature swelled, and seemed 
to speak with the power of the feelings by which he was 
governed. 

“ If the Jewish boy might tame the evil spirit of Saul 
by the sound of his harp, and the words of sacred song, 
it may not be amiss,” he said, “to try the potency of 
music here.” 

Then raising his voice to its highest tones, he poured 
out a strain so powerful as to be heard, even amid the 
din of that bloody field. More than one savage rushed 
towards them, thinking to rifle the unprotected sisters 
of their attire, and bear away their scalps; but when 


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10 

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324 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


they found this strange and unmoved figure riveted to 
his post, they paused to listen. Astonishment soon 
changed to admiration, and they passed on to other and 
less courageous victims, openly expressing their satis- 

5 faction at the firmness with which the white warrior 
sang his death song. Encouraged and deluded by his 
success, David exerted all his powers to extend what he 
believed so holy an influence. The unwonted sounds 
caught the ears of a distant savage, who flew raging 

10 from group to group, like one who, scorning to touch 
the vulgar herd, hunted for some victim more worthy of 
his renown. It was Magua, who uttered a yell of pleas* 
ure when he beheld his ancient prisoners again at his 
mercy. 

15 “ Come,” he said, laying his soiled hand on the dress 

of Cora, “the wigwam of the Huron is still open. Is it 
not better than this place ? ” 

“ Away! ” cried Cora, veiling her eyes from his revolt¬ 
ing aspect. 

20 The Indian laughed tauntingly, as he held up his 
reeking hand, and answered: “ It is red, but it comes 
from white veins ! ” 

“ Monster! there is blood, oceans of blood, upon thy 
soul; thy spirit has moved this scene.” 

25 “ Magua is a great chief! ” returned the exulting sav- 

age. “ Will the dark-hair go to his tribe ? ” 

“Never! strike, if thou wilt, and complete thy re¬ 
venge.” 

He hesitated a moment; and then catching the light 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


325 


and senseless form of Alice in his arms, the subtle 
Indian moved swiftly across the plain toward the woods. 

“ Hold ! ” shrieked Cora, following wildly on his foot¬ 
steps, “ release the child ! wretch! what is’t you do ? ” 

But Magua was deaf to her voice; or rather he knew 
his power and was determined to maintain it. 

“ Stay — lady — stay,” called Gamut, after the uncon¬ 
scious Cora. “ The holy charm is beginning to be felt, 
and soon shalt thou see this horrid tumult stilled.” 

Perceiving that, in his turn, he was unheeded, the 
faithful David followed the distracted sister, raising his 
voice again in sacred song, and sweeping the air to the 
measure, with his long arm, in diligent accompaniment. 
In this manner they traversed the plain, through the 
flying, the wounded, and the dead. The fierce Huron 
was, at any time, sufficient for himself and the victim 
that he bore; though Cora would have fallen, more than 
once, under the blows of her savage enemies, but for the 
extraordinary being who stalked in her rear, and who 
now appeared to the astonished natives gifted with the 
protecting spirit of madness. 

Magua, who knew how to avoid the more pressing 
dangers, and, also, to elude pursuit, entered the woods 
through a low ravine, where he quickly found the Narra- 
gansetts, which the travellers had abandoned so shortly 
before, awaiting his appearance, in custody of a savage 
as fierce and as malign in his expression as himself. 
Laying Alice on one of the horses, he made a sign to 
Cora to mount the other. 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Notwithstanding the horror excited by the presence 
of her captor, there was a present relief in escaping 
from the bloody scene enacting on the plain, to which 
Cora could not be altogether insensible. She took her 
5 seat, and held forth her arms for her sister, with an air 
of entreaty and love, that even the Huron could not 
deny. Placing Alice, then, on the same animal with 
Cora, he seized the bridle, and commenced his route by 
plunging deeper into the forest. David, perceiving that 
10 he was left alone, utterly disregarded, as a subject too 
worthless even to destroy, threw his long limb across 
the saddle of the beast they had deserted, and made 
such progress in the pursuit, as the difficulties of the 
path permitted. 

15 They soon began to ascend; but as the motion had a 
tendency to revive the dormant faculties of her sister, 
the attention of Cora was too much divided between the 
tenderest solicitude in her behalf, and in listening to 
the cries which were still too audible on the plain, to 
20 note the direction in which they journeyed. When, 
however, they gained the flattened surface of the moun¬ 
tain top, and approached the eastern precipice, she recog¬ 
nized the spot to which she had once before been led, 
under the more friendly auspices of the scout. Here 
25 Magua suffered them to dismount, and, notwithstanding 
their own captivity, the curiosity which seems insepa¬ 
rable from horror induced them to gaze at the sickening 
sight below. 

The cruel work was still unchecked. On every side 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


327 


the captured were flying before their relentless persecu¬ 
tors, while the armed columns of the Christian King 
stood fast in an apathy which has never been explained, 
and which has left an immovable blot on the otherwise 
fair escutcheon of their leader. Nor was the sword of 5 
death stayed until cupidity got the mastery of revenge. 
Then, indeed, the shrieks of the wounded and the yells 
of their murderers grew less frequent, until finally the 
cries of horror were lost to their ear, or were drowned 
in the loud, long, and piercing whoops of the trium- iq 
phant savages. 


328 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


CHAPTER XVIIL 

Why, anything: 

An honorable murderer, if you will; 

For naught I did in hate, but all in honor. 

Shakspeare, Othello . 

The bloody and inhuman scene, rather incidentally 
mentioned than described, in the preceding chapter, is 
conspicuous in the pages of colonial history by the 
merited title of “ The Massacre of William Henry.” 
E It so far deepened the stain which a previous and verj 
similar event had left upon the reputation of the French 
commander, that it was not entirely erased by his early 
• and glorious death, ^t is now becoming obscured by 
time; and thousands, who know that Montcalm died 
10 like a hero on the plains of Abraham, have yet to learn 
how much he was deficient in that moral courage, with¬ 
out which no man can be truly great. Pages might be 
written to prove from this illustrious example the de¬ 
fects of human excellence; to show how easy it is fo^ 
15 generous sentiments, high courtesy, and chivalrous cour¬ 
age to lose their influence beneath the chilling blight of 
selfishness, and to exhibit to the world a man who was 
great in all the minor attributes of character, but who 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


329 


was found wanting, when it became necessary to prove 
how much principle is superior to policy. But the task 
would exceed our prerogratives; and as history, like 
love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an atmos¬ 
phere of imaginary brightness, it is probable that Louis £ 
de Saint Veran will be viewed by posterity only as the 
gallant defender of his country, while his cruel apathy 
on the shores of the Oswego and of the Horican will be 
forgotten. Deeply regretting this weakness on the part 
of a sister muse, we shall at once retire from her sacred 10 
precincts within the proper limits of our own humble 
vocation. 

The third day from the capture of the fort was draw¬ 
ing to a close, but the business of the narrative must 
still detain the reader on the shores of the “ holy lake.” IS 
When last seen, the environs of the works were filled 
with violence and uproar. They were now possessed 
by stillness and death. The blood-stained conquerors 
had departed ; and their camp, which had so lately rung 
with the merry rejoicings of a victorious army, lay a 2C 
silent and deserted city of huts. The fortress was a 
smouldering ruin; charred rafters, fragments of ex¬ 
ploded artillery, and rent mason-work covering its 
earthen mounds in confused disorder. 

A frightful change had also occurred in the season. 2S 
The sun had hid its warmth behind an impenetrable 
mass of vapor, and hundreds of human forms, which 
had blackened beneath the fierce heats of August, were 
stiffening in their deformity before the blasts of a pre~ 


330 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


mature November. The curling and spotless mists, 
which had been seen sailing above the hills towards the 
north, were now returning in an interminable dusky 
sheet that was urged along by the fury of a tempest. 
5 The crowded mirror of the Horican was gone; and, in 
its place, the green and angry waters lashed the shores, 
as if indignantly casting back its impurities to the pol¬ 
luted strand. Still, the clear fountain retained a por¬ 
tion of its charmed influence ; but it reflected only the 
lo sombre gloom that fell from the impending heavens. 
That humid and congenial atmosphere which commonly 
adorned the view, veiling its harshness and softening 
its asperities, had disappeared, and the northern air 
poured across the waste of water so harsh and unmingled 
15 that nothing was left to be conjectured by the eye or 
fashioned by the fancy. 

The fiercer element had cropped the verdure of the 
plain, which looked as though it were scathed by the 
consuming lightning. But here and there a dark green 
20 tuft rose in the midst of the desolation; the earliest 
fruits of a soil that had been fattened with human 
blood. The whole landscape, which, seen by a favoring 
light and in a genial temperature, had been found so 
lovely, appeared now like some pictured allegory of life, 
25 in which objects were arrayed in their harshest but 
truest colors, and without the relief of any shadowings 
The solitary and arid blades of grass arose from the 
passing gusts fearfully perceptible ; the bold and rocky 
mountains were too distinct in their barrenness, and the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


331 


eye even sought relief in vain by attempting to pierce 
the illimitable void of heaven, which was shut to its 
gaze by the dusky sheet of ragged and driving vapor. 

The wind blew unequally; sometimes sweeping heav¬ 
ily along the ground, seeming to whisper its moanings s 
in the cold ears of the dead, then rising in a shrill and 
mournful whistling, it entered the forest with a rush 
that filled the air with the leaves and branches it scat¬ 
tered in its path. Amid the unnatural shower, a few 
hungry ravens struggled with the gale; but no sooner IQ 
was the green ocean of woods, which stretched beneath 
them, passed, than they gladly stooped at random to 
their hideous banquet. 

In short, it was a scene of wildness and desolation; 
and it appeared as if all who had profanely entered it, 15 
had been stricken at a blow by the powerful and relent¬ 
less arm of death. But the prohibition had ceased; and, 
for the first time since the perpetrators of those foul 
deeds, which had assisted to disfigure the scene, were 
gone, living human beings had now presumed to approach 20 
the place. 

About an hour before the setting of the sun, on the 
day already mentioned, the forms of five men might have 
been seen issuing from the narrow vista of trees, where 
the path to the Hudson entered the forest, and ad van- 25 
cing in the direction of the ruined works. At first their 
progress was slow and guarded, as though they entered 
with reluctance amid the horrors of the spot, or dreaded 
the renewal of its frightful incidents, A light figure 


332 


JAMES FEN IM ORE COOPER. 


preceded the rest of the party, with the caution and 
activity of a native; ascending every hillock to recon¬ 
noitre, and indicating by gestures to his companions the 
route he deemed it most prudent to pursue. Nor were 
5 those in the rear wanting in every caution and foresight 
known to forest warfare. One among them, and he also 
was an Indian, moved a little on one flank, and watched 
the margin of the woods, with eyes long accustomed to 
read the smallest sign of danger. The remaining three 
10 were white, though clad in vestments adapted, both in 
quality and color, to their present hazardous pursuit, — 
that of hanging on the skirts of a retiring army in the 
wilderness. 

The effects produced by the appalling sights that con- 
15 stantly arose in their path to the lake shore, were as 
different as the characters of the respective individuals 
who composed the party. The youth in front threw 
serious but furtive glances at the mangled victims, as he 
stepped lightly across the plain, afraid to exhibit his 
20 feelings, and yet too inexperienced to quell entirely their 
sudden and powerful influence. His red associate, how¬ 
ever, was superior to such a weakness. He passed the 
groups of dead with a steadiness of purpose, and an eye 
so calm, that nothing but long and inveterate practice 
25 could enable him to maintain. The sensations produced 
in the minds of even the white men were different, 
though uniformly sorrowful. One, whose gray locks 
and furrowed lineaments, blending with a martial air 
and tread, betrayed, in spite of the disguise of a woods- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


gee 


man’s dress, a man long experienced in scenes of war, 
was not ashamed to groan aloud, whenever a spectacle 
of more than usual horror came under his view. The 
young man at his elbow shuddered, but seemed to sup¬ 
press his feelings in tenderness to his companion. Of g 
them all, the straggler who brought up the rear appeared 
alone to betray his real thoughts, without fear of obser¬ 
vation or dread of consequences. He gazed at the most 
appalling sight with eyes and muscles that knew not 
how to waver, but with execrations so bitter and deep 1C. 
as to denote how much he denounced the crime of his 
enemies. 

The reader will perceive at once in these respective 
characters the Mohicans and their white friend, the scout, 
together with Munro and Heyward. It was, in truth, 15 
the father in quest of his children, attended by the youth 
who felt so deep a stake in their happiness, and those 
brave and trusty foresters who had already proved their 
skill and fidelity through the trying scenes related. 

When Uncas, who moved in front, had reached the 20 
centre of the plain, he raised a cry that drew his com¬ 
panions in a body to the spot. The young warrior had 
halted over a group of females who lay in a cluster, a 
confused mass of dead. Notwithstanding the revolting 
horror of the exhibition, Munro and Heyward flew 25 
towards the festering heap, endeavoring with a love that 
no unseemliness could extinguish to discover whether 
any vestiges of those they sought were to be seen among 
the tattered and many-colored garments. The father 


384 


JAMES FENIMORE COOFER . 


and the lover found instant relief in the search; though 
each was condemned again to experience the misery of 
an uncertainty that was hardly less insupportable than 
the most revolting truth. They were standing, silent 
5 and thoughtful, around the melancholy pile, when the 
scout approached. Eying the sad spectacle with an 
angry countenance, the sturdy woodsman, for the first 
time since entering the plain, spoke intelligibly and 
aloud: 

10 “ I have been on many a shocking field and have fol¬ 

lowed a trail of blood for weary miles,” he said, “but 
never have I found the hand of the devil so plain as it 
is here to be seen. Revenge is an Indian feeling, and 
all who know me, know that there is no cross in my 
15 veins; but this much will I say — here, in the face of 
heaven, and with the power of the Lord so manifest in 
this howling wilderness, — that should these Erenchers 
ever trust themselves again within the range of a ragged 
bullet, there is one rifle shall play its part, so long as 
20 flint will fire or powder burn! I leave the tomahawk 
and knife to such as have a natural gift to use them, 
What say you, Chingachgook,” he added in Delaware; 
“ shall the Hurons boast of this to their women when 
the deep snows come ? ” 

25 A gleam of resentment flashed across the dark lin¬ 
eaments of the Mohican chief; he loosened his knife in 
his sheath; and then turning calmly from the sight, his 
countenance settled into a repose as deep as if he never 
knew the influence or instigations of passion. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


835 


" Montcalm ! Montcalm! ” continued the deeply re¬ 
sentful and less self-restrained scout; c< they say a time 
must come, when all the deeds done in the flesh will be 
seen at a single look; and that by eyes cleared from 
mortal infirmities. Woe betide the wretch who is born 
to behold this plain, with the judgment hanging above 
his soul ! Ha — as I am a man of white blood, yonder 
lies a redskin, without the hair of his head where nature 
rooted it! Look to him, Delaware j it may be one of 
your missing people; and he should have burial like a 
stout warrior. I see it in your eye, Sagamore ; a Huron 
pays for this afore the fall winds have blown away the 
scent of the blood 

Chingachgook approached the mutilated form, and 
turning it over he found the distinguishing marks of 
trae of those six allied tribes or nations, as they were 
called, who, while they fought in the English ranks, 
were so deadly hostile to his own people. Spurning the 
loathsome object with his foot, he turned from it with 
the same indifference he would have quitted a brute 
carcass. The scout comprehended the action, and very 
deliberately pursued his own way, continuing, however, 
his denunciations against the French commander in the 
same resentful strain. 

“ Nothing but vast wisdom and onlimited power 
should dare to sweep off men in multitudes,” he added; 
“ for it is only the one that can know the necessity of 
the judgment; and what is there, short of the other, 
that can replace the creatures of the Lord ? I hold it 


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10 

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20 

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336 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


a sin to kill the second buck afore the first is eatery 
unless a march in the front, or an ambushment, be con¬ 
templated. It is a different matter with a few warriors 
in open and rugged fight, for ’tis their gift to die with the 
5 rifle or the tomahawk in hand; according as their natures 
may happen to be white or red. Uncas, come this way, 
lad, and let the raven settle upon the Mingo. I know, 
from often seeing it, that they have a craving for the 
flesh of an Oneida; and it is as well to let the bird fol¬ 
io low the gift of its natural appetite.” 

“ Hugh! ” exclaimed the young Mohican, rising on 
the extremities of his feet, and gazing intently in his 
front, frightening the raven to some other prey by the 
sound and the action. 

15 “ What is it, boy ? ” whispered the scout, lowering his 

tall form into a crouching attitude, like a panther about 
to take his leap ; “ God send it be a tardy Trencher, 
skulking for plunder. I do believe ‘Kill-deer’ would 
take an oncommon range to-day ! ” 

20 Uncas, without making any reply, bounded away from 
the spot, and in the next instant he was seen tearing 
from a bush and waving in triumph a fragment of the 
green riding veil of Cora. The movement, the exhibition, 
and the cry, which again burst from the lips ©f the young 
25 Mohican, instantly drew the whole party about him. 

“ My child ! ” said Munro, speaking quick and wildly; 
“ give me my child ! ” 

“ Uncas will try,” was the short and touching answer. 

The simple, but meaning assurance was lost on the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


337 


father, who seized the piece of gauze and crushed it in 
his hand, while his eyes roamed fearfully among the 
bushes, as if he equally dreaded and hoped for the 
secrets they might reveal. 

“ Here are no dead,” said Heyward, “ the storm seems 
not to have passed this way.” 

“ That’s manifest; and clearer than the heavens above 
our heads,” returned the undisturbed scout; “ but either 
she, or they that have robbed her, have passed the bush; 
for I remember the rag she wore to hide a face that all 
did love to look upon. Uncas, you are right; the dark- 
hair has been here, and she has fled like a frighted fawn 
to the wood; none who could fly would remain to be 
murdered ! Let us search for the marks she left; for 
to Indian eyes, I sometimes think even a humming¬ 
bird leaves his trail in the air.” 

The young Mohican darted away at the suggestion, 
and the scout had hardly done speaking before the for¬ 
mer raised a cry of success from the margin of the for¬ 
est. On reaching the spot the anxious party perceived 
another portion of the veil fluttering on the lower branch 
of a beech. 

“ Softly, softly,” said the scout, extending his long 
rifle in front of the eager Heyward; “ we now know our 
work, but the beauty of the trail must not be deformed. 
A step too soon may give us hours of trouble. We have 
them though; that much is beyond denial.” 

“ Bless ye, bless ye, worthy man ! ” exclaiirfed Munro; 
u whither then have they fled, and where are my babes ? ” 


5 

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20 

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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ The path they have taken depends on many chances. 
If they have gone alone, they are quite as likely to move 
in a circle as straight, and they may be within a dozen 
miles of us; but if the Hurons, or any of the French 
5 Indians, have laid hands on them, ’tis probable they are 
now near the borders of the Canadas. But what matters 
that ? ” continued the deliberate scout, observing the 
powerful anxiety and disappointment the listeners ex¬ 
hibited ; “ here are the Mohicans and I on one end of the 
10 trail, and rely on it we find the other, though they should 
be a hundred leagues asunder! Gently, gently, Uncas, 
you are as impatient as a man in the settlements; you 
forget that light feet leave but faint marks.” 

“ Hugh! ” exclaimed Chingachgook, who had been oc- 
15 cupied in examining an opening that had been evidently 
made through the low underbrush which skirted the 
forest; and who now stood erect, as he pointed down¬ 
wards, in the attitude and with the air of a man who 
beheld a disgusting serpent. 

30 “ Here is the palpable impression of the footstep of a 

man,” cried Heyward, bending over the indicated spot; 
“ he has trod in the margin of this pool, and the mark 
cannot be mistaken. They are captives.” 

“ Better so than left to starve in the wilderness,” re- 
25 turned the scout; “ and they will leave a wider trail. I 
would wager fifty beaver skins against as many flints, 
that the Mohicans and I enter their wigwams within the 
month. Stoop to it, Uncas, and try what you can make 
of the moccasin; for moccasin it plainly is and no shoe.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


839 


The young Mohican bent over the track, and removing 
the scattered leaves from around the place, he examined 
it with much of that sort of scrutiny that a money- 
dealer, in these days of pecuniary doubts, would bestow 
on a suspected due-bill. At length he arose from his 
knees, satisfied with the result of the examination. 

“Well, boy,” demanded the attentive scout, “what 
does it say ? can you make anything of the tell-tale ? ” 

44 Le Renard Subtil! ” 

44 Ha! that rampaging devil again! there never will 
be an end of his loping, till 4 Kill-deer ? has said a 
friendly word to him.” 

Heyward reluctantly admitted the truth of this in¬ 
telligence, and now expressed rather his hopes, than his 
doubts, by saying:. 

44 One moccasin is so much like another, it is probable 
there is some mistake.” 

44 One moccasin like another! you may as well say that 
one foot is like another; though we all know that some 
are long and others short; some broad and others nar¬ 
row ; some with high and some with low insteps; some 
in-toed, and some out. One moccasin is no more like 
another than one book is like another; though they who 
can read in one, are seldom able to tell the marks of the 
other. Which is all ordered for the best, giving to every 
man his natural advantages. Let me get down to it, 
Uncas; neither book nor moccasin is the worse for 
having two opinions instead of one.” The scout stooped 
to the task, and instantly added, 44 You are right, boy; 


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10 

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20 

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340 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


here is the patch we saw so often in the other chase. 
And the fellow will drink when he can get an opportu¬ 
nity ; your drinking Indian always learns to walk with a 
wider toe than the natural savage, it being the gift of 
5 a drunkard to straddle, whether of a white or red skin. 
’Tis just the length and breadth, too! look at it, Saga¬ 
more ; you measured the prints more than once, when we 
hunted the varments from Glenn’s to the health-springs.” 

Chingachgook complied ; and after finishing his short 
JO examination he arose, and with a quiet demeanor he 
merely pronounced the word — 

“Magua.” 

“ Ay, ’tis a settled thing; here then have passed the 
dark-hair and Magua.” 

15 “And not Alice?” demanded Heyward. 

“ Of her we have not yet seen the signs,” returned 
the scout, looking closely around at the trees, the bushes, 
and the ground. “ What have we there ? Uncas, bring 
hither the thing you see dangling from yonder thorn- 
20 bush.” 

When the Indian had complied, the scout received the 
prize, and, holding it on high, he laughed in his silent, 
but heartfelt manner. 

“ ’Tis the tooting we’pon of the singer! now we shall 
25 have a trail a priest might travel,” he said. “ Uncas, 
look for the marks of a shoe that is long enough to up¬ 
hold six-feet-two of tottering human flesh. I begin to 
have some hopes of the fellow, since he has given up 
squalling to follow some better trade.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


341 


“At least he has been faithful to his trust,” said 
Heyward; “ and Cora and Alice are not without a friend.” 

“ Yes,” said Hawkeye, dropping his rifle, and leaning 
on it with an air of visible contempt, “ he will do their 
singing. Can he slay a buck for their dinner, journey 0 
by the moss on the beeches, or cut the throat of a 
Huron ? If not, the first catbird he meets is the clev¬ 
erest of the two. Well, boy, any signs of such a foun¬ 
dation ? ” 

“ Here is something like the footstep of one who has 10 
worn a shoe. Can it be that of our friend ? ” 

“ Touch the leaves lightly, or you’ll disconsart the 
formation. That! that is the print of a foot, but ’tis 
the dark-hair’s; and small it is, too, for one of such a 
noble height and grand appearance. The singer would 15 
cover it with his heel.” 

“ Where ? let me look on the footsteps of my child.” 
said Munro, shoving the bushes aside, and bending fond¬ 
ly over the nearly obliterated impression. Though the 
tread which had left the mark had been light and 20 
rapid, it was still plainly visible. The aged soldier 
examined it with eyes that grew dim as he gazed; nor 
did he rise from his stooping posture until Heyward 
saw that he had watered the trace of his daughter’s pas¬ 
sage, with a scalding tear. Willing to divert a distress 25 
which threatened each moment to break through the 
restraint of appearances, by giving the veteran some¬ 
thing to do, the young man said to the scout: 

“ As we now possess these infallible signs, let us 


342 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


commence our march. A moment at such a time will 
appear an age to the captives.” 

“ It is not the swiftest leaping deer that gives the 
longest chase,” returned Hawkeye, without moving his 
5 eyes from the different marks that had come under his 
view; “ we know that the rampaging Huron has passed 
— and the dark-hair — and the singer — but where is 
she of the yellow locks and blue eyes ? Though little, 
and far from being as bold as her sister, she is fair to 
10 view and pleasant in discourse. Has she no friend, that 
none care for her ? ” 

“ God forbid she would ever want hundreds ! Are we 
not now in her pursuit ? for one, I will never cease the 
search till she be found.” 

15 “In that case we may have to journey by different 
paths; for here she has not passed, light and little as 
her footsteps would be.” 

Heyward drew back, all his ardor to proceed seeming 
to vanish on the instant. Without attending to this 
20 sudden change in the other’s humor, the scout, after 
musing a moment, continued : 

“ There is no woman in this wilderness could leave 
such a print as that but the dark-hair or her sister. We 
know that the first has been here, but where are the 
25 signs of the other ? Let us push deeper on the trail, 
and if nothing offers, we must go back to the plain and 
strike another scent. Move on, Uncas, and keep your 
eyes on the dried leaves. I will watch the bushes, 
while your father shall run with a low nose to the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 343 

ground. Move on, friends; the sun is getting behind 
the hills.” 

“ Is there nothing that I can do ? ” demanded the anx¬ 
ious Heyward. 

“ You! ” repeated the scout, who, with his red friends, 
was already advancing in the order he had prescribed; 
“yes, y°u can keep in our rear and be careful not to 
cross the trail.” 

Before they had proceeded many rods the Indians 
stopped and appeared to gaze at some signs on the earth, 
with more than their usual keenness. Both father and 
son spoke quick and loud, now looking at the object of 
their mutual admiration, and now regarding each other 
with the most unequivocal pleasure. 

“ They have found the little foot! ” exclaimed the 
scout, moving forward, without attending further to his 
own portion of the duty. “ What have we here ? An 
ambushment has been planted in the spot? No, by the 
truest rifle on the frontiers, here have been them one¬ 
sided horses again! Now the whole secret is out, and 
all is plain as the north star at midnight. Yes, here 
they have mounted. There the beasts have been bound 
to a sapling in waiting ; and yonder runs the broad path 
away to the north, in full sweep for the Canadas.” 

“ But still there are no signs of Alice — of the younger 
Miss Munro,” said Duncan. 

“ Unless the shining bauble Uncas has just lifted from 
the ground should prove one. Pass it this way, lad, 
that we may look at it.” 


5 

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344 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Heyward instantly knew it for a trinket that Alice 
was fond of wearing, and which he recollected with the 
tenacious memory of a lover to have seen on the fatal 
morning of the massacre, dangling from the fair neck 
5 of his mistress. He seized the highly prized jewel; 
and, as he proclaimed the fact, it vanished from the 
eyes of the wondering scout, who in vain looked for it 
on the ground, long after it was warmly pressed against 
the beating heart of Duncan. 

10 “ Pshaw ! ” said the disappointed Hawkeye, ceasing 

to rake the leaves with the breech of his rifle; “’tis a 
certain sign of age, when the sight begins to weaken. 
Such a glittering gewgaw, and not to be seen! Well, 
well, I can squint along a clouded barrel yet, and that 
15 is enough to settle all disputes between me and the 
Mingos. I should like to find the thing too, if it were 
only to carry it to the right owner, and that would be 
bringing the two ends of what I call a long trail to¬ 
gether — for by this time the broad St. Lawrence, or 
20 perhaps even the great Lakes themselves are atwixt. 
us.” 

“ So much the more reason why we should not delay 
our march,” returned Heyward ; “ let us proceed.” 

“ Young blood and hot blood, they say, are much the 
25 same thing. We are not about to start on a squirrel 
hunt, or to drive a deer into the Horican, but to outlie 
for days and nights, and to stretch across a wilderness 
where the feet of men seldom go, and where no bookish 
knowledge would carry you through harmless. An In- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


845 


dian never starts on such an expedition without smok¬ 
ing over his council fire ; and, though a man of white 
blood, I honor their customs in this particular, seeing 
that they are deliberate and wise. We will, therefore, 
go back, and light our fire to-night in the ruins of the 5 
old fort, and in the morning we shall be fresh and ready 
to undertake our work like men, and not like babbling 
women of eager boys.” , 

Heyward saw by the manner of the scout that alter¬ 
cation would be useless. Munro had again sunk into 10 
that sort of apathy which had beset him since his late 
overwhelming misfortunes, and from which he was ap¬ 
parently to be roused only by some new and powerful 
excitement. Making a merit of necessity, the young 
man took the veteran by the arm, and followed in the 15 
footsteps of the Indians and the scout, who had already 
begun to retrace the path which conducted them to the 
plain. 


m 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

SAiiARiNO. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his 
flesh: what’s that good for ? 

Shylock. To bait fish withal: if it will feed nothing else it will 
feed my revenge. — Shakspeare, Merchant of Venice. 

The shades of evening had come to increase the 
dreariness of the place, when the party entered the 
ruins of William Henry. The scout and his com¬ 
panions immediately made their preparations to pass 
5 the night there; but with an earnestness and sobriety 
of demeanor that betrayed how much the unusual hor¬ 
rors they had just witnessed, worked on even their 
practised feelings. A few fragments of rafters were 
reared against a blackened wall; and when Uncas had 
10 covered them slightly with brush, the temporary accom¬ 
modations were deemed sufficient. The young Indian 
pointed toward his rude hut, when his labor was ended; 
and Heyward, who understood the meaning of the silent 
gesture, gently urged Munro to enter. Leaving the 
15 bereaved old man alone with his sorrows, Duncan im¬ 
mediately returned into the open air, too much excited 
himself to seek the repose he had recommended to his 
veteran friend. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 84? 

While Haw key e and the Indians lighted their fire and 
took their evening’s repast, a frugal meal of dried bear’s 
meat, the young man paid a visit to that curtain of the 
dilapidated fort which looked out on the sheet of the 
Horican. The wind had fallen, and the waves were 
already rolling on the sandy beach beneath him in a 
more regular and tempered succession. The clouds, as 
if tired of their furious chase, were breaking asunder; 
the heavier volumes, gathering in black masses about the 
horizon, while the lighter scud still hurried above the 
water, or eddied among the tops of the mountains, like 
broken flights of birds hovering around their roosts. 
Here and there a red and fiery star struggled through 
the drifting vapor, furnishing a lurid gleam of bright¬ 
ness to the dull aspect of the heavens. Within the 
bosom of the encircling hills, an impenetrable darkness 
had already settled, and the pliin lay like a vast and 
deserted charnel-house, without omen or whisper to dis¬ 
turb the slumbers of its numerous and hapless tenants. 

Of this scene, so chillingly in accordance with the 
past, Duncan stood for many minutes a rapt observer. 
His eyes wandered from the bosom of the mound, where 
the foresters were seated around their glimmering fire, 
to the fainter light which still lingered in the skies, and 
then rested long and anxiously on the embodied gloom, 
which lay like a dreary void on that side of him where 
the dead reposed. He soon fancied that inexplicable 
sounds arose from the place, though so indistinct and 
Stolen as to render not only their nature, but even their 


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348 


JAMES FEN1M0BE COOPER. 


existence, uncertain. Ashamed of his apprehensions, 
the young man turned towards the water, and strove to 
divert his attention to the mimic stars that dimly glim¬ 
mered on its moving surface. Still, his too conscious 
5 ears performed their ungrateful duty, as if to warn him 
of some lurking danger. At length, a swift trampling 
seemed quite audibly to rush athwart the darkness. 
Unable any longer to quiet his uneasiness, Duncan 
spoke in a low voice to the scout, requesting him to 
10 ascend the mound to the place where he stood. Hawk- 
eye threw his rifle across an arm and complied, but 
with an air so unmoved and calm, as to prove how much 
he accounted on the security of their position. 

“Listen,” said Duncan, when the other had placed 
15 himself deliberately at his elbow; “ there are suppressed 
noises on the plain, which may show that Montcalm has 
not yet entirely deserted his conquest.” 

“ Then ears are better than eyes,” said the undis¬ 
turbed scout, who having just deposited a portion of a 
20 bear between his grinders, spoke thick and slow, like 
one whose mouth was doubly occupied; “ I myself saw 
him caged in Ty, with all his host; for your Drenchers, 
when they have done a clever thing, like to get back, 
and have a dance, or a merry-making with the women, 
25 over their success.” 

“ I know not. An Indian seldom sleeps in war, and 
plunder may keep a Huron here after his tribe has de¬ 
parted. It would be well to extinguish the fire, and 
have a watch — listen! you hear the noise I mean ? ” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


349 


“ An Indian more rarely lurks about tbe graves. 
Though ready to slay, and not over regardful of the 
means, he is commonly content with the scalp, unless 
when blood is hot and temper up; but after the spirit 
is once fairly gone, he forgets his enmity, and is willing 3 
to let the dead find their natural rest. Speaking of 
spirits, major, are you of opinion that the heaven of a 
red-skin and of us whites will be one and the same ? ” 
“No doubt-—no doubt. I thought I heard it again! 
or v as it the rustling of the leaves in the top of the IQ 
beech ? 99 

“ For my own part,” continued Hawkeye, turning his 
face for a moment in the direction indicated by Hey¬ 
ward, but with a vacant and careless manner, “ I believe 
that paradise is ordained for happiness; and that men 15 
will be indulged in it according to their dispositions and 
gifts. I therefore judge that a red-skin is not far from 
the truth when he believes he is to find them glorious 
hunting grounds of which his traditions tell; nor, for 
that matter, do I think it would be any disparagement 2C 
to a man without a cross to pass his time—” 

“ You hear it again ! ” interrupted Duncan. 

“ Ay, ay ; when food is scarce, and when food is plenty, 
a wolf grows bold,” said the unmoved scout. “ There 
would be picking, too, among the skins of the devils, if 25 
there was light and time for the sport! But, concerning 
the life that is to come, major, I have heard preachers 
sa,y, in the settlements, that heaven was a place of rest. 
Now men’s minds differ as to their ideas of enjoyment. 


350 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


For myself, and I say it with reverence to the ordering 
of Providence, it would be no great indulgence to be 
kept shut up in those mansions of which they preach, 
having a natural longing for motion and the chase.” 

5 Duncan, who was now made to understand the nature 
of the noises he had heard, answered with more atten¬ 
tion to the subject which the humor of the scout had 
chosen for discussion, by saying: 

“It is difficult to account for the feelings that may 
10 attend the last great change.” 

“It would be a change indeed, for a man who has 
passed his days in the open air,” returned the single- 
minded scout; “and who has so often broken his fast 
on the head waters of the Hudson, to sleep within sound 
15 of the roaring Mohawk. But it is a comfort to know 
we serve a merciful Master, though we do it each after 
his fashion, and with great tracts of wilderness atween 
us — What goes there ? ” 

“Is it not the rushing of the wolves you have men- 
20 tioned ? ” 

Hawkeye slowly shook his head, and beckoned for 
Duncan to follow him to a spot whither the glare from 
the fire did not extend. When he had taken this precau¬ 
tion, the scout placed himself in an attitude of intense 
25 attention, and listened long and keenly for a repetition 
of the low sound that had so unexpectedly startled him. 
His vigilance, however, seemed exercised in vain; for, 
after a fruitless pause, he whispered to Duncan: 

“We must give a call to Uncas. The boy has Indian 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


351 


senses, and may hear what is hid from us; for being a 
white-skin I will not deny my nature.” 

The young Mohican, who was conversing in a low 
voice with his father, started as he heard the moaning 
of an owl; and, springing on his feet, he looked toward fi 
the black mounds, as if seeking the place whence the 
sounds proceeded. The scout repeated the call, and in 
a few moments Duncan saw the figure of Uncas stealing 
cautiously along the rampart to the spot where they 
stood. 10 

Hawkeye explained his wishes in a very few words, 
which were spoken in the Delaware tongue. So soon as 
Uncas was in possession of the reason why he was sum¬ 
moned, he threw himself flat on the turf; where, to the 
eyes of Duncan, he appeared to lie quiet and motionless. 15 
Surprised at the immovable attitude of the young war¬ 
rior, and curious to observe the manner in which he em¬ 
ployed his faculties to obtain the desired information, 
Hey wax d advanced a few steps, and bent over the dark 
object on which he had kept his eyes riveted. Then it 20 
was he discovered that the form of Uncas had vanished, 
and that he beheld only the dark outline of an inequality 
in the embankment. 

“ What has become of the Mohican ? ” he demanded 
of the scout, stepping back in amazement; “ it was here 2fi 
that I saw him fall, and I could have sworn that here 
he yet remained ! ” 

“ Hist! speak lower; for we know not what ears are 
cpen, and the Mingos are a quick-witted breed. As for 


352 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Uncas, lie is out on the plain, and the Maquas, if any 
such are about us, will find their equal.” 

“ You think that Montcalm has not called off all his 
Indians ? Let us give the alarm to our companions, 
5 that we may stand by our arms. Here are five of us 
who are not unused to meet an enemy.” 

“Not a word to either, as you value life. Look at 
the Sagamore, how like a grand Indian chief he sits by 
the fire. If there are any skulkers out in the darkness, 
10 they will never discover by his countenance that we 
suspect danger to be at hand.” 

“But they may discover him, and it will prove his 
death. His person can be too plainly seen by the light 
of that fire, and he will become the first and most cer- 
15 tain victim.” 

“ It is undeniable that now you speak the truth,” 
returned the scout, betraying more anxiety in his man¬ 
ner than was usual; “ yet what can be done ? A single 
suspicious look might bring on an attack before we are 
20 ready to receive it. He knows, by the call I gave to 
Uncas, that we have struck a scent; I will tell him that 
we are on the trail of the Mingos ; his Indian nature 
will teach him how to act.” 

The scout applied his fingers to his mouth, and raised 
,25 a low hissing sound, that caused Duncan at first to start 
aside believing that he heard a serpent. The head of 
Chingachgook was resting on a hand, as he sat mus¬ 
ing by himself \ but the moment he heard the warning 
of the animal whose name he bore, it arose to an up- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


353 


right position and his dark eyes glanced swiftly and 
keenly on every side of him. With this sudden and 
perhaps involuntary movement, every appearance of 
surprise or alarm ended. His rifle lay untouched and 
apparently unnoticed, within reach of his hand. The 
tomahawk that he had loosened in his belt, for the sake 
of ease, was even suffered to fall from its usual situation 
to the ground, and his form seemed to sink like that of 
a man whose nerves and sinews were suffered to relax 
for the purpose of rest. Cunningly resuming his former 
position, though with a change of hands, as if the move¬ 
ment had been made merely to relieve the limb, the 
native awaited the result with a calmness and fortitude 
that none but an Indian warrior would have known how 
to exercise. 

But Heyward saw that, while to a less instructed eye, 
the Mohican chief appeared to slumber, his nostrils 
were expanded, his head was turned a little to one side, 
as if to assist the organs of hearing, and that his quick 
and rapid glances ran incessantly over every object 
within the power of his vision. 

“ See the noble fellow ! ” whispered Hawkeye, press¬ 
ing the arm of Heyward; “ he knows that a look or a 
motion might disconsart our wisdom and put us at the 
mercy of them imps — ” 

He was interrupted by the flash and report of a rifle. 
The air was filled with sparks of fire around that spot 
where the eyes of Heyward were still fastened, with 
admiration and wonder. A second look told him that 


5 

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20 

25 


fl54 JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 

Chingachgook had disappeared in the confusion. In 
the meantime, the scout had thrown forward his rifle, 
like one prepared for service, and awaited impatiently 
the moment when an enemy might rise to view. But 
3 with the solitary and fruitless attempt made on the life 
of Chingachgook, the attack appeared to have termb 
nated. Once or twice the listeners thought they could 
distinguish the distant rustling of bushes, as bodies of 
some unknown description rushed through them ; nor 
10 was it long before Hawkeye pointed out the “ scamper¬ 
ing of the wolves,” as they fled precipitately before the 
passage of some intruders on their proper domains. 
After an impatient and breathless pause a plunge was 
heard in the water, and was immediately followed by 
15 the report of another rifle. 

“ There goes Uncas ! ” said the scout; “ the boy bears 
a smart piece! I know its crack as well as a father 
knows the language of his child, for I carried the gun 
myself until a better offered.” 

20 “ What can this mean ? ” demanded Duncan ; “ we 

are watched, and, as it would seem, marked for destruc¬ 
tion.” 

“Yonder scattered brand can witness that no good 
was intended, and this Indian will testify that no harm 
25 has been done,” returned the scout, dropping his rifle 
coolly across his arm again, and following Chingachgook, 
who just then reappeared within the circle of light, into 
the bosom of the works. “ How is it, Sagamore ? Are 
the Mingos upon us in earnest, or is it only one of those 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


355 


reptiles who hang upon the skirts of a war party to 
scalp the dead, go in, and make their boast among the 
squaws of the valiant deeds done on the pale faces ? ” 

Chingachgook very quietly resumed his seat; nor did 
he make any reply until after he had examined the fire- 5 
brand which had been struck by the bullet, that had 
nearly proved fatal to himself. After which he was 
content to reply, holding a single finger up to view, with 
the English monosyllable: 

“ One.” 10 

“l thought as much,” returned Hawkeye, seating 
himself; “ and as he had got the cover of the lake afore 
Uncas pulled upon him, it is more than probable the 
knave will sing his lies about some great ambushment, 
in which he was outlying on the trail of two Mohicans 15 
and a white hunter — for the officers can be considered 
as little better than idlers in such a scrimmage. Well, 
let him — let him. There are always some honest men 
in every nation, though heaven knows, too, that they 
are scarce among the Maquas, to look down an upstart 20 
when he brags ag’in the face of reason ! The varlet sent 
his lead within whistle of your ears, Sagamore.” 

Chingachgook turned a calm and incurious eye towards 
the place where the ball had struck, and then resumed 
his former attitude with a composure that could not be 25 
disturbed by so trifling an incident. Just then Uncas 
glided into the circle and seated himself at the fire, with 
the same appearance of indifference as was maintained 
by his father. 


356 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Of these several movements, Heyward was a deeply 
interested and wondering observer. It appeared to him 
as though the foresters had some secret means of intel¬ 
ligence, which had escaped the vigilance of his own 
5 faculties. In place of that eager and garrulous narration, 
with which a white youth would have endeavored to 
communicate, and perhaps exaggerate, that which had 
passed out in the darkness of the plain, the young war¬ 
rior was seemingly content to let his deeds speak for 
10 themselves. It was, in fact, neither the moment nor 
the occasion for an Indian to boast of his exploits ; and 
it is probable that had Heyward neglected to inquire, 
not another syllable would, just then, have been uttered 
on the subject. 

15 “ What has become of our enemy, Uncas ? ” demanded 

Duncan; “ we heard your rifle, and hoped you had not 
fired in vain.” 

The young chief removed a fold of his hunting shirt, 
and quietly exposed the fatal tuft of hair, which he bore 
20 as the symbol of his victory. Chingachgook laid his 
hand on the scalp, and considered it for a moment with 
deep attention. Then dropping it, with disgust depicted 
in his strong features, he ejaculated; 

“ Oneida! ” 

25 “ Oneida! ” repeated the scout, who was fast losing his 

interest in the scene, in an apathy nearly assimilated to 
that of his red associates, but who now advanced with 
uncommon earnestness to regard the bloody badge. “ By 
the Lord, if the Oneidas are outlying upon the trail, we 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


357 


shall be flanked by devils on every side of us ! Now, to 
white eyes there is no difference between this bit of skin 
and that of any other Indian, and yet the Sagamore de¬ 
clares it came from the poll of a Mingo ; nay, he even 
names the tribe of the poor devil, with as much ease as 5 
if the scalp was the leaf of a book and each hair a let¬ 
ter. What right have Christian whites to boast of their 
learning, when a savage can read a language that would 
prove too much for the wisest of them all! What say 
you , lad ; of what people was the knave ? ” 10 

Uncas raised his eyes to the face of the scout, and 
answered in his soft voice : 

“ Oneida.” 

“ Oneida again! when one Indian makes a declaration 
it is commonly true ; but when he is supported by his 15 
people, set it down as gospel.” 

“ The poor fellow has mistaken us for French,” said 
Heyward, “ or he would not have attempted the life of 
a friend.” 

“ He mistake a Mohican in his paint for a Huron ! 20 
You would be as likely to mistake the white coated gre¬ 
nadiers of Montcalm, for the scarlet jackets of the ‘Royal 
Americans/ ” returned the scout. “ No, no, the sarpent 
knew his errand ; nor was there any great mistake in the 
matter, for there is but little love atween a Delaware and 25 
a Mingo, let their tribes go out to fight for whom they 
may in a white quarrel. For that matter, though the 
Oneidas do serve his sacred majesty, who is my own sov¬ 
ereign lord and master, I should not have deliberated 


358 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


long about letting off ‘ Kill-deer ’ at the imp myself, had 
luck thrown him in my way.” 

“ That would have been an abuse of our treaties and 
unworthy of your character.” 

5 “ When a man consorts much with a people,” contin¬ 

ued Hawkeye, “ if they are honest, and he no knave, 
love will grow up atwixt them. It is true that white cun¬ 
ning has managed to throw the tribes into great confu¬ 
sion, as respects friends and enemies ; so that the Hurons 
10 and the Oneidas, who speak the same tongue, or what 
may be called the same, take each other’s scalps, and the 
Delawares are divided among themselves; a few hang¬ 
ing about their great council fire on their own river, and 
fighting on the same side with the Mingos, while the 
15 greater part are in the Canadas, out of natural enmity 
to the Maquas— thus throwing every thing into dis¬ 
order and destroying all the harmony of warfare. Yet 
a red natur’ is not likely to alter with every shift of 
policy ; so that the love atwixt a Mohican and a Mingo 
20 is much like the regard between a white man and a sar- 
pent.” 

“ I regret to hear it; for I had believed those natives 
who dwelt within our boundaries had found us too just 
and liberal not to identify themselves fully with our 
25 quarrels.” 

“ Why, I believe it is natur’ to give a preference to 
one’s own quarrels before those of strangers. Now for 
myself, I do love justice; and therefore I will not say I 
hate a Mingo, for that may be unsuitable to my color 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


359 


and my religion, though I will just repeat, it may have 
been owing to the night that ‘ Kill-deer ’ had no hand 
in the death of this skulking Oneida.” 

Then, as if satisfied with the force of his own reasons, 
whatever might be their effect on the opinions of the 
other disputant, the honest but implacable woodsman 
turned from the fire, content to let the controversy slum¬ 
ber. Heyward withdrew to the rampart, too uneasy and 
too little accustomed to the warfare of the woods, to 
remain at ease under the possibility of such insidious 
attacks. Hot so, however, with the scout and the Mo¬ 
hicans. Those acute and long practised senses, whose 
powers so often exceed the limits of all ordinary credu¬ 
lity, after having detected the danger had enabled them 
to ascertain its magnitude and duration. Not one of the 
three appeared in the least to doubt their perfect secu¬ 
rity, as was indicated by the preparations that were 
soon made, to sit in council over their future proceed¬ 
ings. 

The confusion of nations and even of tribes, to which 
Hawkeye alluded, existed at that period in the fullest 
force. The great tie of language, and, of course, of a 
common origin, was severed in many places; and it was 
one of its consequences that the Delaware and the Mingo 
(as the people of the Six Nations were called), were found 
fighting in the same ranks, while the latter sought the 
scalp of the Huron, though believed to be the root of his 
own stock. The Delawares were even divided among 
themselves. Though love for the soil which had be- 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


360 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


longed to his ancestors kept the Sagamore of the Mohi¬ 
cans, with a small band of followers who were serving 
at Edward, under the banners of the English king, by 
far the largest portion of his nation were known to be 
5 in the field as allies of Montcalm. The reader probably 
knows, if enough has not already been gleaned from 
this narrative, that the Delaware, or Lenape, claimed to 
be the progenitors of that numerous people who once 
were masters of most of the eastern and northern states 
10 of America, of whom the community of the Mohicans 
was an ancient and highly honored member. 

It was, of course, with a perfect understanding of the 
minute and intricate interests, which had armed friend 
against friend, and brought natural enemies to combat 
15 by each other’s side, that the scout and his companions 
now disposed themselves to deliberate on the measures 
that were to govern their future movements, amid so 
many jarring and savage races of men. Duncan knew 
enough of Indian customs to understand the reason that 
20 the fire was replenished, and why the warriors, not ex¬ 
cepting Hawkeye, took their seats within the curl of its 
smoke, with so much gravity and decorum. Placing him¬ 
self at an angle of the works, where he might be a spec¬ 
tator of the scene within, while he kept a watchful eye 
25 against any danger from without, he awaited the result 
with as much patience as he could summon. 

After a short and impressive pause, Chingachgook 
lighted a pipe, whose bowl was curiously carved in one 
of the soft stones of the country, and whose stem was a 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


361 


tube of wood, and commenced smoking. When he had 
inhaled enough of the fragrance of the soothing weed, 
he passed the instrument into the hands of the scout. 

In this manner the pipe had made its rounds three sev¬ 
eral times, amid the most profound silence, before either 5 
of the party opened his lips. Then the Sagamore, as the 
oldest and highest in rank, in a few calm and dignified 
words proposed the subject for deliberation. He was 
answered by the scout; and Chingachgook rejoined, 
when the other objected to his opinions. But the youth-10 
ful Uncas continued a silent and respectful listener, 
until Hawkeye, in complaisance, demanded his opinion. 
Heyward gathered from the manners of the different 
speakers, that the father and son espoused one side of a 
disputed question, while the white man maintained the 15 
other. The contest gradually grew warmer, until it was 
quite evident the feelings of the speakers began to be 
somewhat enlisted in the debate. 

Notwithstanding the increasing warmth of the amica¬ 
ble contest, the most decorous Christian assembly, not 20 
even excepting those in which its reverend ministers are 
collected, might have learned a wholesome lesson of 
moderation from the forbearance and courtesy of the 
disputants. The words of Uncas were received with the 
same deep attention as those which fell from the ma- 25 
turer wisdom of his father; and, so far from manifesting 
any impatience, none spoke in reply until a few moments 
of silent meditation were seemingly bestowed in deliber¬ 
ating on what had already been said. 


362 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER „ 


The language of the Mohicans was accompanied by 
gestures so direct and natural, that Heyward had but 
little difficulty in following the thread of their argu¬ 
ment. On the other hand, the scout was obscure; be- 
S cause, from the lingering pride of color, he rather 
affected the cold and inartificial manner, which charac¬ 
terizes all classes of Anglo-Americans when unexcited. 
By the frequency with which the Indians described the 
marks of a forest trail, it was evident they urged a pur- 
10 suit by land, while the repeated sweep of Hawkeye’s 
arm toward the Horican, denoted that he advocated a 
passage across its waters. 

The latter was, to every appearance, fast losing 
ground, and the point was about to be decided against 
15 him, when he arose to his feet, and shaking off his 
apathy, he suddenly assumed the manner of an Indian 
and adopted all the arts of native eloquence. Elevating 
an arm, he pointed out the track of the sun, repeating 
the gesture for every day that was necessary to accom- 
20 plish their object. Then he delineated a long and pain¬ 
ful path, amid rocks and water courses. The age and 
weakness of the slumbering and unconscious Munro 
were indicated by signs too palpable to be . mistaken. 
Duncan perceived that even his own powers were spoken 
25 lightly of, as the scout extended his palm, and men¬ 
tioned him by the appellation of the “ Open Hand ” a 
name his liberality had purchased of all the friendly 
tribes. Then came the representation of the light and 
graceful movements of a canoe, set in forcible contrast 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


363 


to the tottering steps of one enfeebled and tired. He 
concluded by pointing to the scalp of the Oneida, and 
apparently urging the necessity of their departing 
speedily, and in a manner that should leave no trail. 

The Mohicans listened gravely, and with countenances 
that reflected the sentiments of the speaker. Convic¬ 
tion gradually wrought its influence, and towards the 
close of Hawkeye’s speech his sentences were accom¬ 
panied by the customary exclamation of commendation. 
In short, Uncas and his father became converts to his 
way of thinking, abandoning their own previously ex¬ 
pressed opinions, with a liberality and candor, that, 
had they been the representatives of some great and 
civilized people, would have infallibly worked their po¬ 
litical ruin, by destroying forever their reputation for 
consistency. 

The instant the matter in discussion was decided, the 
debate and everything connected with it, except the re¬ 
sult, appeared to be forgotten. Hawkeye, without look¬ 
ing round to read his triumph in applauding eyes, very 
composedly stretched his tall frame before the dying 
embers and closed his own organs in sleep. 

Left now in a measure to themselves, the Mohicans, 
whose time had been so much devoted to the interests of 
others, seized the moment to devote some attention to 
themselves. Casting off at once the grave and austere 
demeanor of an Indian chief, Chingachgook commenced 
speaking to his son in the soft and playful tones of 
affection. Uncas gladly met the familiar air of his 


5 

10 

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20 

25 


364 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


father, and before the hard breathing of the scout an 
nounced that he slept, a complete change was effected in 
the manner of his two associates. 

It is impossible to describe the music of their lan- 
5 guage, while thus engaged in laughter and endearments, 
in such a way as to render it intelligible to those whose 
ears have never listened to its melody. The compass of 
their voices, particularly that of the youth, was wonder¬ 
ful ; extending from the deepest bass to tones that were 
10 even feminine in softness. The eyes of the father fol¬ 
lowed the plastic and ingenuous movements of the son 
with open delight, and he never failed to smile in reply 
to the other’s contagious but low laughter. While under 
the influence of these gentle and natural feelings no 
15 trace of ferocity was to be seen in the softened features 
of the Sagamore. His figured panoply of death looked 
, more like a disguise assumed in mockery, than a fierce 
annunciation of a desire to carry destruction in his 
footsteps. 

20 After an hour passed in the indulgence of their 
better feelings, Chingachgook abruptly announced his 
desire to sleep, by wrapping his head in his blanket and 
stretching his form on the naked earth. The merriment 
of Uncas instantly ceased; and carefully raking the 
25 coals in such a manner that they should impart their 
warmth to his father’s feet, the youth sought his own 
pillow among the ruins of the place. 

Imbibing renewed confidence from the security of 
these experienced foresters, Heyward soon imitated 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


365 


their example; and, long before the night had turned, 
they who lay in the bosom of the ruined work seemed 
to slumber as heavily as the unconscious multitude, 
whose bones were already beginning to bleach, on the 
surrounding plain. 


366 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


CHAPTER XX. 

Land of Albania ! let me bend mine eyes 
On thee, thou rugged nurse of savage men ! 

Bvron, Childe Harold . 

The heavens were still studded with stars when 
Hawkeye came to arouse the sleepers. Casting aside 
their cloaks, Munro and Heyward were on their feet, 
while the woodsman was still making his low calls at 
5 the entrance of the rude shelter where they had passed 
the night. When they issued from beneath its conceal¬ 
ment, they found the scout awaiting their appearance 
nigh by, and the only salutation between them was the 
significant gesture for silence, made by their sagacious 
10 leader. 

“Think over your prayers,” he whispered, as they 
approached him; “ for He,. to whom you make them, 
knows all tongues; that of the heart as well as those of 
the mouth. But speak not a syllable; it is rare for a 
15 white voice to pitch itself properly in the woods, as we 
have seen by the example of that miserable devil, the 
singer. Come,” he continued, turning towards a curtain 
of the works, “ let us get into the ditch on this side, and 
be regardful to step on the stones and fragments of 
20 wood as you go.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


367 


His companions complied, though to two of them the 
reasons of all this extraordinary precaution were yet a 
mystery. When they were in the low cavity, that sur¬ 
rounded the earthen fort on three of its sides, they 
found the passage nearly choked by the ruins. With 
care and patience, however, they succeeded in clamber¬ 
ing after the scout, until they reached the sandy shore 
of the Horican. 

“ That’s a trail that nothing but a nose can follow,” 
said the satisfied scout, looking back along their difficult 
way; M grass is a treacherous carpet for a flying party 
to tread on, but wood and stone take no print from a 
moccasin. Had you worn your armed boots, there might 
indeed, have been something to fear; but with the deer¬ 
skin suitably prepared, a man may trust himself, gener¬ 
ally, on rocks with safety. Shove in the canoe nigher to 
the land, Uncas; this sand will take a stamp as easily 
as the butter of the Butchers on the Mohawk. Softly, 
lad, softly ; it must not touch the beach, or the knaves 
will know by what road we have left the place.” 

The young man observed the precaution; and the 
scout, laying a board from the ruins to the canoe, made 
a sign for the two officers to enter. When this was done, 
everything was studiously restored to its former disor- 
order; and then Hawkeye succeeded in reaching his 
little birchen vessel, without leaving behind him any of 
those marks which he appeared so much to dread. Hey¬ 
ward was silent, until the Indians had cautiously pad- 
died the canoe some distance from the fort, and within 


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368 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER . 


the broad and dark shadow that fell from the eastern 
mountains, on the glossy surface of the lake; then he 
demanded: 

“ What need have we for this stolen and hurried de- 
5 parture ? ” 

“ If the blood of an Oneida could stain such a sheet 
of pure water as this we float on,” returned the 
scout, “your two eyes would answer your own ques¬ 
tion. Have you forgotten the skulking reptile whom 
loUncas slew?” 

“ By no means. But he was said to be alone, and dead 
men give no cause for fear! ” 

“Ay, he was alone in his deviltry! but an Indian, 
whose tribe counts so many warriors, need seldom fear 
15 his blood will run without the death-shriek coming 
speedily from some of his enemies.” 

“ But our presence — the authority of Colonel Munro 
— would prove a sufficient protection against the anger 
of our allies, especially in a case where the wretch so 
20 well merited his fate. I trust in Heaven you have not 
deviated a single foot from the direct line of our course, 
with so slight a reason.” 

“ Do you think the bullet of that varlet’s rifle would 
have turned aside, though his sacred majesty, the King, 
25 had stood in its path ? ” returned the stubborn scout. 
“Why did not the grand Frencher, he who is captain 
general of the Canadas, bury the tomahawks of the 
Hurons, if a word from a white can work so strongly on 
the natur’ of an Indian ? ” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


369 


The reply of Heyward was interrupted by a groan 
from Munro; but after he had paused a moment in 
deference to the sorrow of his aged friend, he resumed 
the subject. 

“ The Marquis of Montcalm can only settle that error 5 
with his God,” said the young man, solemnly. 

“ Ay, ay, now there is reason in your words, for they 
are bottomed on religion and honesty. There is a vast 
difference between throwing a regiment of white coats 
atwixt the tribes and the prisoners, and coaxing an 10 
angry savage to forget he carries a knife and a rifle, 
with words that must begin with calling him ‘your son.’ 
No, no,” continued the scout, looking back at the dim 
shore of William Henry, which now appeared to be fast 
receding, and laughing in his own silent but heartfelt 15 
manner; “ I have put a trail of water atween us; and 
unless the imps can make friends with the fishes, and 
hear who has paddled across their basin this fine morn¬ 
ing, we shall throw the length of the Horican behind us 
before they have made up their minds which path to 20 
take.” 

“ With foes in front and foes in our rear, our journey 
is like to be one of danger.” 

“ Danger,” repeated Hawkeye calmly; “ no, not abso¬ 
lutely of danger; for, with vigilant ears and quick eyes, 25 
we can manage to keep a few hours ahead of the knaves; 
or, if we must try the rifle, there are three of us who 
understand its gifts as well as any you can name on the 
borders. No, not of danger; but that we shall have 


370 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


what you may call a brisk push of it is probable; and it 
may happen, a brush, a skrimmage, or some such divar- 
sion, but always where covers are good and ammunition 
abundant.” 

5 It is possible that Heyward’s estimate of danger dif¬ 
fered in some degree from that of the scout, for, instead 
of replying, he now sat in silence, while the canoe glided 
over several miles of water. Just as the day dawned 
they entered the narrows of the lake, and stole swiftly 
10 and cautiously among their numberless little islands. It 
was by this road that Montcalm had retired with his 
army, and the adventurers knew not but he had left 
some of his Indians in ambush, to protect the rear of his 
forces and collect the stragglers. They, therefore, ap- 
15 proached the passage with the customary silence of their 
guarded habits. 

Chingachgook laid aside his paddle; while Uncas and 
the scout urged the light vessel through crooked and in¬ 
tricate channels, where every foot that they advanced 
20 exposed them to the danger of some sudden rising on 
their progress. The eyes of the Sagamore moved warily 
from islet to islet, and copse to copse, as the canoe pro¬ 
ceeded ; and when a clearer sheet of water permitted, 
his keen vision was bent along the bald rocks and im- 
25 pending forests, that frowned upon the narrow strait. 

Heyward, who was a doubly interested spectator, as 
well from the beauties of the place as from the ap¬ 
prehension natural to his situation, was just believing 
that he had permitted the latter to be excited without 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


371 


sufficient reason, when the paddles ceased moving in 
obedience to a signal from Chingachgook. 

“ Hugh! ” exclaimed Uncas, nearly at the moment 
that the light tap his father had made on the side of the 
canoe, notified them of the vicinity of danger. 5 

“ What now ? ” asked the scout; “ the lake is as smooth 
as if the wind had never blown, and I can see along its 
sheet for miles ; there is not so much as the black head 
of a loon dotting the water. 7 ’ 

The Indian gravely raised his paddle and pointed in 10 
the direction that his own steady look was riveted. 
Duncan’s eyes followed the motion. A few rods in 
their front lay another of the low wooded islets, but it 
appeared as calm and peaceful as if its solitude had 
never been disturbed by the foot of man. 15 

“ I see nothing,” he said, “ but land and water ; and a 
lovely scene it is ! ” 

“ Hist! ” interrupted the scout. “ Ay, Sagamore, there 
is always a reason for what you do. ’Tis but a shade 
and yet it is not natural. You see the mist, major, that 20 
is rising above the island; you can’t call it a fog, for it 
is more like a streak of thin cloud ” — 
u It is vapor from the water.” 

u That a child could tell. But what is the edging of 
blacker smoke that hangs along its lower side, and 25 
which you may trace down into the thicket of hazel ? 
’Tis from a fire; but one that in my judgment, has been 
suffered to burn low.” 

“ Let us then push for the place, and relieve our 


372 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


doubts/’ said tbe impatient Duncan; “ the party must 
be small that can lie on such a bit of land.” 

“If you judge of Indian cunning by the rules you 
find in books, or by white sagacity, they will lead you 
5 astray, if not to your death,” returned Hawkeye, ex¬ 
amining the signs of the place with that acuteness which 
distinguished him. “ If I may be permitted to speak in 
this matter, it will be to say that we have but two things 
to choose between: the one is to return and give up all 
10 thoughts of following the Hurons —” 

“Never ! ” exclaimed Heyward, in a voice far too loud 
for their circumstances. 

“ Well, well,” continued Hawkeye, making a hasty 
sign to repress his impatience; “ I am much of your 
15 mind myself; though I thought it becoming my experi¬ 
ence to tell the whole. We must then make a push, 
and if the Indians or Frenchers are in the narrows, run 
the gauntlet through these toppling mountains. Is there 
reason in my words, Sagamore ? ” 

20 The Indian made no other answer than by dropping his 
paddle into the water and urging forward the canoe. 
As he held the office of directing its course, his resolu¬ 
tion was sufficiently indicated by the movement. The 
whole party now plied their paddles vigorously, and in 
25 a very few moments they had reached a point whence 
they might command an entire view of the northern 
shore of the island, the side that had hitherto been 
concealed. 

“ There they are, by all the truth of signs,” whispered 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


373 


the scout; “two canoes and a smoke. The knaves 
haven’t yet got their eyes out of the mist, or we should 
hear the accursed whoop. Together, friends, we are 
leaving them, and are already nearly out of whistle of a 
bullet.” 5 

The well-known crack of a rifle, whose ball came skip¬ 
ping along the placid surface of the strait, and a shrill 
yell from the island interrupted his speech and an¬ 
nounced that their passage was discovered. In another 
instant several savages were seen rushing into the 10 
canoes, which were soon dancing over the water in pur¬ 
suit. These fearful precursors of a coming struggle 
produced no change in the countenances and movements 
of his three guides, so far as Duncan could discover, 
except that the strokes of their paddles were longer and 15 
more in unison, and caused the little bark to spring for¬ 
ward like a creature possessing life and volition. 

“Hold them there, Sagamore,” said Hawkeye, look¬ 
ing coolly backward over his left shoulder, while he still 
plied his paddle; “ keep them just there. Them Hu- 2G 
rons have never a piece in their nation that will execute 
at this distance; but ‘ Kill-deer 9 has a barrel on which a 
man may calculate.” 

The scout having ascertained that the Mohicans were 
sufficient of themselves to maintain the requisite dis- 25 
tance, deliberately laid aside his paddle and raised the 
fatal rifle. Three several times he brought the piece to 
his shoulder, and when his companions were expecting 
its report, he as often lowered it, to request the Indians 


374 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


would permit their enemies to approach a little nigher. 
At length his accurate and fastidious eye seemed satis¬ 
fied, and throwing out his left arm on the barrel he was 
slowly elevating the muzzle, when an exclamation from 
5 Uncas, who sat in the bow, once more caused him to 
suspend the shot. 

“ What now, lad ? ” demanded Hawkeye; “ you saved 
a Huron from the death-shriek by that word; have you 
reason for what you do ? ” 

10 Uncas pointed towards *the rocky shore, a little in 
their front, whence another war canoe was darting di¬ 
rectly across their course. It was too obvious now that 
their situation was imminently perilous, to need the aid 
of language to confirm it. The scout laid aside his rifle 
15 and resumed the paddle, while Chingachgook inclined 
the bows of the canoe a little towards the western shore, 
in order to increase the distance between them and this 
new enemy. In the mean time they were reminded of 
the presence of those who pressed upon their rear, by 
20 wild and exulting shouts. The stirring scene awakened 
even Munro from his apathy. 

“Let us make for the rocks on the main,” he said, 
with the mien of a tried soldier, “ and give battle to the 
savages. God forbid that I, or those attached to me and 
25 mine, should ever trust again to the faith of any servant 
of the Louises ! ” 

“He who wishes to prosper in Indian warfare,” re¬ 
turned the scout, “ must not be too proud to learn from 
the wit of a native. Lay her more along the land, Sag 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


375 


amore; we are doubling on the varlets, and perhaps they 
may try to strike our trail on the long calculation.” 

Hawkeye was not mistaken ; for, when the Hurons 
found their course was likely to throw them behind 
their chase, they rendered it less direct, until by gradu- 5 
ally bearing more and more obliquely, the two canoes 
were, ere long, gliding on parallel lines, within two 
hundred yards of each other. It now became entirely 
a trial of speed. So rapid was the progress of the light 
vessels that the lake curled in their front in miniature i0 
waves, and their motion became undulating by its own 
velocity. It was, perhaps, owing to this circumstance, 
in addition to the necessity of keeping every hand em¬ 
ployed at the paddles, that the Hurons had not imme¬ 
diate recourse to their fire-arms. The exertions of the 15 
fugitives were too severe to continue long, and the pur¬ 
suers had the advantage of numbers. Duncan observed, 
with uneasiness, that the scout began to look anxiously 
about him, as if searching for some further means of 
assisting their flight. 20 

“ Edge her a little more from the sun, Sagamore,” 
said the stubborn woodsman ; “ I see the knaves are 
sparing a man to the rifle. A single broken bone might 
lose us our scalps. Edge more from the sun, and we 
will put the island between us.” 25 

The expedient was not without its use. A long, low 
island lay at a little distance before them, and as they 
closed with it, the chasing canoe was compelled to take 
a side opposite to that on which the pursued passedo 


376 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


The scout and his companions did not neglect this ad¬ 
vantage, but the instant they were hid from observation 
by the bushes, they redoubled efforts that before had 
seemed prodigious. The two canoes came round the 
5 last low point, like two coursers at the top of their 
speed, the fugitives taking the lead. This change had 
brought them nigher to each other, however, while it 
altered their relative positions. 

“ You showed knowledge in the shaping of birchen 
10 bark, Uncas, when you chose this from among the 
Huron canoes,” said the scout, smiling apparently 
more in satisfaction at their superiority in the race 
than from that prospect of final escape, which now be¬ 
gan to open a little upon them. “ The imps have put 
15 all their strength again at the paddles, and we are to 
struggle for our scalps with bits of flattened wood, 
instead of clouded barrels and true eyes. A long stroke 
and together, friends.” 

“ They are preparing for a shot,” said Heyward ; “ and 
20 as we are in a line with them it can scarcely fail.” 

“ Get you then into the bottom of the canoe,” re¬ 
turned the scout; “ you and the colonel; it will be so 
much taken from the size of the mark.” 

Heyward smiled, as he answered: 

25 “ It would be but an ill example for the highest in 

rank to dodge, while the warriors were under fire I” 

“ Lord ! Lord ! that is now a white man’s courage ! ” 
exclaimed the scout; “ and like too many of his notions 
not to be maintained by reason. Do you think the Sag- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


377 


amore or Uncas or even I, who am a man without a 
cross, would deliberate about finding a cover in a skrim- 
mage, when an open body would do no good ? For what 
have the Frenchers reared up their Quebec, if fighting 
is always to be done in the clearings ? ” 5 

“ All that you say is very true, my friend,” replied 
Heyward; “ still, our customs must prevent us from 
doing as you wish.” 

A volley from the Hurons interrupted the discourse, 
and as the bullets whistled about them Duncan saw the 10 
head of Uncas turned, looking back at himself and 
Munro. Notwithstanding the nearness of the enemy 
and his own great personal danger, the countenance of 
the young warrior expressed no other emotion, as the, 
former was compelled to think, than amazement at find-15 
ing men willing to encounter so useless an exposure. 
Chingachgook was probably better acquainted with the 
notions of white men, for he did not even cast a glance 
aside from the riveted look his eye maintained on the 
object, by which he governed their course. A ball soon 20 
struck the light and polished paddle from the hands of 
the chief, and drove it through the air far in the ad¬ 
vance. A shout arose from the Hurons, who seized the 
opportunity to fire another volley. Uncas described an 
arc in the water with his own blade, and as the canoe 25 
passed swiftly on, Chingachgook recovered his paddle, 
and flourishing it on high he gave the war-whoop of the 
Mohicans, and then lent his own strength and skill 
again to the important task. 


378 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


The clamorous sounds of “ Le Gros Serpent/’ “La 
Longue Carabine/’ “ Le Cerf Agile/’ burst at once from 
the canoes behind, and seemed to give new zeal to the 
pursuers. The scout seized “ Kill-deer” in his left hand, 
5 and elevating it above his head he shook it in triumph 
at his enemies. The savages answered the insult with 
a yell, and immediately another volley succeeded. The 
bullets pattered along the lake, and one even pierced 
the bark of their little vessel. No perceptible emotion 
10 could be discovered in the Mohicans during this critical 
moment, their rigid features expressing neither hope nor 
alarm; but the scout again turned his head, and laugh¬ 
ing in his own silent manner he said to Heyward: 

“ The knaves love to hear the sounds of their pieces; 
15 but the eye is not to be found among the Mingos that 
can calculate a true range in a dancing canoe ! You see 
the dumb devils have taken off a man to charge, and by 
smallest .measurement that can be allowed we move 
three feet to their two.” 

-20 Duncan, who was not altogether as easy under this 
nice estimate of distances as his companions, was glad 
to find, however, that owing to their superior dexterity 
and the diversion among their enemies they were very 
sensibly obtaining the advantage. The Hurons soon 
25 fired again, and a bullet struck the blade of Hawkeye’s 
paddle without injury. 

“ That will do,” said the scout, examining the slight 
indentation with a curious eye; “ it would not have cut 
the skin of an infant, much less of men, who, like us, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


379 


have been blown upon by the heavens in their anger. 
Now, major, if you will try to use this piece of flattened 
wood, I’ll let ‘ Kill-deer ? take a part in the conver¬ 
sation.” 

Heyward seized the paddle and applied himself to i 
the work with an eagerness that supplied the place of 
skill, while Hawkeye was engaged in inspecting the 
priming of his rifle. The latter then took a swift aim 
and fired. The Huron in the bow of the leading canoe 
had risen with a similar object, and he now fell back -10 
ward, suffering his gun to escape from his hands into 
the water. In an instant, however, he recovered his 
feet, though his gestures were wild and bewildered. At 
the same moment his companions suspended their efforts, 
and the chasing canoes clustered together, and became 15 
stationary. Chingachgook and Uncas profited by the 
interval to regain their wind, though Duncan continued 
to work with the most persevering industry. The father 
and son now cast calm but inquiring glances at each 
other, to learn if either had sustained any injury by the 20 
fire; for both well knew that no cry or exclamation 
would, in such a moment of necessity, have been per¬ 
mitted to betray the accident. A few large drops of 
blood were trickling down the shoulder of the Sagamore, 
who, when he perceived that the eyes of Uncas dwelt 25 
too long on the sight, raised some water in the hollow 
of his hand, and washing off the stain was content to 
manifest in this simple manner the slightness of the 
injury. 


380 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPEB. 


“ Softly, softly, major,” said the scout, who by this 
time had reloaded his rifle; “ we are a little too far al¬ 
ready for a rifle to put forth its beauties, and you see 
yonder imps are holding a council. Let them come up 
5 within striking distance — my eye may well be trusted 
in such a matter — and I will trail the varlets the length 
of the Horican, guaranteeing that not a shot of theirs 
shall, at the worst, more than break the skin, while ‘ Kill- 
deer ’ shall touch the life twice in three times.” 

10 u We forget our errand,” returned the diligent Duncan. 
“ For God’s sake, let us profit by this advantage, and in¬ 
crease our distance from the enemy.” 

“ Give me my children,” said Munro, hoarsely ; u trifle 
no longer with a father’s agony, but restore me my 
15 babes ! ” 

Long and habitual deference to the mandates of his 
superiors had taught the scout the virtue of obedience. 
Throwing a last and lingering glance at the distant 
canoes, he laid aside his rifle, and, relieving the wearied 
20 Duncan, resumed the paddle, which he wielded with sin¬ 
ews that never tired. His efforts were seconded by 
those of the Mohicans, and a very few minutes served 
to place such a sheet of water between them and their 
enemies that Heyward once more breathed freely. 

15 The lake now began to expand, and their route lay 
along a wide reach, that was lined as before by high 
and ragged mountains. But the islands were few and 
easily avoided. The strokes of the paddles grew more 
measured and regular, while they who plied them com 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 381 

tinued their labor, after the close and deadly chase from 
which they had just relieved themselves, with as much 
coolness as though their speed had been tried in sport, 
rather than under such pressing, nay, almost desperate, 
circumstances. 

Instead of following the western shore, whither their 
errand led them, the wary Mohican inclined his course 
more towards those hills, behind which Montcalm was 
known to have led his army into the formidable fortress of 
Ticonderoga. As the Hurons, to every appearance, had 
abandoned the pursuit, there was no apparent reason for 
this excess of caution. It was, however, maintained for 
hours, until they had reached a bay nigh the northern 
termination of the lake. Here the canoe was driven 
upon the beach and the whole party landed. Hawkeye 
and Heyward ascended an adjacent bluff, where the for¬ 
mer, after considering the expanse of water beneath him, 
pointed out to the latter a small black object, hovering 
under a headland, at the distance of several miles. 

“Do you see it ?” demanded the scout. “Now, what 
would you account that spot, were you left alone to 
white experience to find your way through this wilder¬ 
ness ? ” 

“ But for its distance and its magnitude, I should 
suppose it a bird. Can it be a living object ? ” 

“’Tis a canoe of good birchen bark, and paddled by 
fierce and crafty Mingos ! Though Providence has lent 
to those who inhabit the woods eyes that would be 
needless to men in the settlements, where there are in- 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


382 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


ventions to assist the sight, yet no human organs can 
see all the dangers which at this moment circumvent us. 
These varlets pretend to be bent chiefly on their sun¬ 
down meal, but the moment it is dark, they will be on 
f our trail, as true as hounds on the scent. We must 
throw them off, or our pursuit of Le Renard Subtil may 
be given up. These lakes are useful at times, especially 
when the game takes the water,” continued the scout, 
gazing about him with a countenance of concern, “but 
10 they give no cover, except it be to the fishes. God 
knows what the country would be, if the settlements 
should ever spread far from the two rivers. Both hunt¬ 
ing and war would lose their beauty.” 

“ Let us not delay a moment without some good and 
15 obvious cause.” 

“ I little like that smoke, which you may see worming 
up along the rock above the canoe,” interrupted the ab¬ 
stracted scout. “My life on it, other eyes than ours 
see it, and know its meaning! Well, words will not 
20 mend the matter, and it is time that we were doing.” 

Hawkeye moved away from the lookout, and de¬ 
scended, musing profoundly, to the shore. He communi¬ 
cated the result of his observations to his companions, 
in Delaware, and a short and earnest consultation suc- 
25 ceeded. When it terminated, the three instantly set 
about executing their new resolutions. 

The canoe was lifted from the water and borne on the 
shoulders of the party. They proceeded into the wood, 
making as broad and obvious a trail as possible. They 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS, 


383 


soon reached a water course, which they crossed, and 
continued onward, until they came to an extensive and 
naked rock. At this point, where their footsteps might 
be expected to be no longer visible, they retraced their 
route to the brook, walking backwards with the utmost 
care. They now followed the bed of the little stream 
to the lake, into which they immediately launched their 
canoe again. A low point concealed them from the 
headland, and the margin of the lake was fringed for 
some distance with dense and overhanging bushes. 
Under the cover of these natural advantages, they toiled 
their way, with patient industry, until the scout pro¬ 
nounced that he believed it would be safe once more to 
land. 

The halt continued until evening rendered objects in¬ 
distinct and uncertain to the eye. Then they resumed 
their route, and, favored by the darkness, pushed silently 
and vigorously toward the western shore. Although 
the rugged outline of mountain, to which they were 
steering, presented no distinctive marks to the eyes of 
Duncan, the Mohican entered the little haven he had 
selected with the confidence and accuracy of an experi¬ 
enced pilot. 

The boat was again lifted and borne into the woods, 
where it was carefully concealed under a pile of brush. 
The adventurers assumed their arms and packs, and the 
scout announced to Munro and Heyward that he and the 
Indians were at last in readiness to proceed. 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 




JAMES FEN1M0EE COOPER, 


CHAPTER XXL 

If you find a man there, he shall die a flea’s death. 

Shakspeare, The Merry Wives of Windsor , 

The party had landed on the border of a region that 
is, even to this day, less known to the inhabitants of 
the States than the deserts of Arabia or the steppes of 
Tartary. It was the sterile and rugged district, which 
5 separates the tributaries of Champlain from those of 
the Hudson, the Mohawk and the St. Lawrence. Since 
the period of our tale, the active spirit of the country 
has surrounded it with a belt of rich and thriving settle¬ 
ments, though none but the hunter or the savage is ever 
10 known, even now, to penetrate its wild recesses. 

As Hawkeye and the Mohicans had, however, often 
traversed the mountains and valleys of this vast wilder¬ 
ness, they did not hesitate to plunge into its depths, 
with the freedom of men accustomed to its privations 
15 and difficulties. For many hours the travellers toiled on 
their laborious way, guided by a star, or following the 
direction of some water course, until the scout called a 
halt; and holding a short consultation with the Indians, 
they lighted their fire, and made the usual preparations 
m to pass the remainder of the night where they were. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


385 


Imitating the example and emulating the confidence 
of their more experienced associates, Munro and Dun¬ 
can slept without fear, if not without uneasiness. The 
dews were suffered to exhale, and the sun had dispersed 
the mists and was shedding a strong and clear light in 
the forest, when the travellers resumed their journey. 

After proceeding a few miles the progress of Hawk- 
eye, who led the advance, became more deliberate and 
watchful. He often stopped to examine the trees; nor 
did he cross a rivulet without attentively considering 
the quantity, the velocity, and the color of its waters. 
Distrusting his own judgment, his appeals to the opinion 
of Chingachgook were frequent and earnest. During 
one of these conferences, Heyward observed that Uncas 
stood a patient and silent, though, as he imagined, an 
interested listener. He was strongly tempted to address 
the young chief and demand his opinion of their prog¬ 
ress ; but the calm and dignified demeanor of the 
native induced him to believe, that, like himself, the 
other was wholly dependent on the sagacity and intelli¬ 
gence of the seniors of the party. At last the scout 
spoke in English and at once explained the embarrass¬ 
ment of their situation. 

“ When I found that the home path of the Hurons 
runs north,’’ he said, “it did not need the judgment of 
many long years to tell that they would follow the 
valleys, and keep atween the waters of the Hudson and 
the Horican, until they might strike the springs of 
the Canada streams, which would lead them into the 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


386 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


heart of the country of the Frenchers. Yet here we 
are, within a short range of the Scaroon, and not a sign 
of a trail have we crossed ! Human natur’ is weak and 
it is possible we may not have taken the proper scent.” 
5 a Heaven protect us from such an error ! ” exclaimed 
Duncan. u Let us retrace our steps, and examine as we 
go, with keener eyes. Has Uncas no counsel to offer in 
such a strait ? ” 

The young Mohican cast a quick glance at his father, 
10 but maintaining his quiet and reserved mien, he con¬ 
tinued silent. Chingachgook had caught the look, and 
motioning with his hand, he bade him speak. The 
moment this permission was accorded, the countenance 
of Uncas changed from its grave composure to a gleam 
15 of intelligence and joy. Bounding forward like a deer, 
he sprang up the side of a little acclivity a few rods in 
advance, and stood exultingly over a spot of fresh 
earth, that looked as though it had been recently up¬ 
turned by the passage of some heavy animal. The eyes 
20 of the whole party followed the unexpected movement, 
and read their success in the air of triumph that the 
youth assumed. 

“ ’Tis the trail! ” exclaimed the scout, advancing to 
the spot; “ the lad is quick of sight and keen of wit for 
25 his years.” 

“ ’Tis extraordinary that he should have withheld his 
knowledge so long,” muttered Duncan at his elbow. 

“ It would have been more wonderful had he spoken, 
without a bidding. No, no; your young white, who 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 38*1 

gathers his learning from books and can measure what 
he knows by the page, may conceit that his knowledge, 
like his legs, outruns that of his father; but where ex¬ 
perience is the master, the scholar is made to know the 
value of years, and respects them accordingly.” 5 

“See!” said Uncas, pointing north and south, at the 
evident marks of the broad trail on either side of him; 
“the dark-hair has gone towards the frost.” 

“ Hound never ran on a more beautiful scent,” re¬ 
sponded the scout, dashing forward at once on the indi-10 
cated route; “ we are favored, greatly favored, and can 
follow with high noses. Ay, here are both your waddling 
beasts; this Huron travels like a white general. The 
fellow is stricken with a judgment and is mad! Look 
sharp for wheels, Sagamore,” he continued, looking back 15 
and laughing in his newly awakened satisfaction; “ we 
shall soon have the fool journeying in a coach, and that 
with three of the best pair of eyes on the borders in his 
rear.” 

The spirits of the scout, and the astonishing success 2v 
of the chase, in which a circuitous distance of more than 
forty miles had been passed, did not fail to impart a 
portion of hope to the whole party. Their advance was 
rapid; and made with as much confidence as a traveller 
would proceed along a wide highway. If a rock or a 25 
rivulet or a bit of earth harder than common severed 
the links of the clew they followed, the true eye of the 
scout recovered them at a distance, and seldom rendered 
the delay of a single moment necessary. Their progress 


388 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


was much facilitated by the certainty that Magua had 
found it necessary to journey through the valleys; a 
circumstance which rendered, the general direction of 
the route sure. Nor had the Huron entirely neglected 
5 the arts uniformly practised by the natives when retiring 
in front of an enemy. False trails and sudden turnings 
were frequent, wherever a brook or the formation of 
the ground rendered them feasible; but his pursuers 
were rarely deceived, and never failed to detect their 
10 error before they had lost either time or distance on the 
deceptive track. 

By the middle of the afternoon they had passed the 
Scaroon and were following the route of the declining 
sun. After descending an eminence to a low bottom, 
15 through which a swift stream glided, they suddenly 
came to a place where the party of Le Renard had made 
a halt. Extinguished brands were lying around a spring, 
the offals of a deer were scattered about the place, and 
the trees bore evident marks of having been browsed 
20 by the horses. At a little distance Heyward discovered 
and contemplated with tender emotion the small bower 
under which, he was fain to believe, that Cora and Alice 
had reposed. But while the earth was trodden, and the 
footsteps of both men and beasts were so plainly visible 
25 around the place, the trail appeared to have suddenly 
ended. 

It was easy to follow the tracks of the Narragansetts, 
but they seemed only to have wandered without guides, 
or any other object than the pursuit of food. At length 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICAN'S. 


389 


Oncas, who, with his father, had endeavored to trace the 
route of the horses, came upon a sign of their presence, 
that was quite recent. Before following the clew, he 
communicated his success to his companions, and while 
the latter were consulting on the circumstance, the youth 
reappeared, leading the two fillies, with their saddles 
broken and the housings soiled, as though they had been 
permitted to run at will for several days. 

“ What should this prove ? ” said Duncan, turning 
pale, and glancing his eyes around him, as if he feared 
the brush and leaves were about to give up some horrid 
secret. 

u That our march is come to a quick end, and that we 
are in an enemy’s country,” returned the scout. u Had 
the knave been pressed, and the gentle ones wanted 
horses to keep up with the party, he might have taken 
their scalps; but without an enemy at his heels, and 
with such rugged beasts as these, he would not hurt a 
hair of their heads. I know your thoughts, and shame 
be it to our color that you have reason for them ; but he 
who thinks that even a Mingo would ill treat a woman, 
unless it be to tomahawk her, knows nothing of Indian 
natur’ or the laws of the woods. No, no; I have heard 
that the French Indians had come into these hills to 
hunt the moose, and we are getting within scent of their 
camp. Why should they not ? the morning and evening 
guns of Ty may be heard any day among these moun¬ 
tains; for the Frenchers are running a new line atween 
the provinces of the king and the Canadas. It is true 


5 

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890 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


that the horses are here, but the Hurons are gone; let 
us then hunt for the path by which they departed.” 

Hawkeye and the Mohicans now applied themselves 
to their task in good earnest. A circle of a few hun- 
5 dred feet in circumference was drawn, and each of the 
party took a segment for his portion. The examination, 
however, resulted in no discovery. The impressions of 
footsteps were numerous, but they all appeared like 
those of men who had wandered about the spot without 
10 any design to quit it. Again the scout and his com¬ 
panions made the circuit of the halting-place, each 
slowly following the other, until they assembled in the 
centre once more, no wiser than when they started. 

“ Such cunning is not without its deviltry,” exclaimed 
15 Hawkeye, when he met the disappointed looks of his 
assistants. “ We must get down to it, Sagamore, be¬ 
ginning at the spring, and going over the ground by 
inches. The Huron shall never brag in his tribe that 
he has a foot which leaves no print.” 

20 Setting the example himself, the scout engaged in the 
scrutiny with renewed zeal. Not a leaf was left un¬ 
turned. The sticks were removed and the stones lifted 
— for Indian cunning was known frequently to adopt 
these objects as covers, laboring with the utmost patience 
25 and industry to conceal each footstep as they proceeded. 
Still, no discovery was made. At length Uncas, whose 
activity had enabled him to achieve his portion of the 
task the soonest, raked the earth across the turbid little 
rill which ran from the spring, and diverted its course 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


391 


into another channel. So soon as its narrow bed below 
the dam was dry, he stooped over it with keen and curi¬ 
ous eyes. A cry of exultation immediately announced 
the success of the young warrior. The whole party 
crowded to the spot, where Uncas pointed out the im- 5 
pression of a moccasin in the moist alluvion. 

“ The lad will be an honor to his people, ” said Hawk- 
eye, regarding the trail with as much admiration as a 
naturalist would expend on the tusk of a mammoth or the 
rib of a mastodon; “ ay, and a thorn in the sides of the 10 
Hurons. Yet that is not the footstep of an Indian! 
the weight is too much on the heel, and the toes are 
squared, as though one of the French dancers had been 
in, pigeon-winging his tribe. Run back, Uncas, and 
bring me the size of the singer’s foot. You will find a 15 
beautiful print of it just opposite yon rock, ag’in the 
hillside.” 

While the youth was engaged in this commission, the 
scout and Chingachgook were attentively considering the 
impressions. The measurements agreed, and the former 20 
unhesitatingly pronounced that the footstep was that 
of David, who had once more been made to exchange his 
shoes for moccasins. 

“ I can now read the whole of it, as plainly as if I had 
seen the arts of Le Subtil,” he added ; “ the singer being 25 
a man whose gifts lay chiefly in his throat and feet, was 
made to go first, and the others have trod in his steps, 
imitating their formation.” 

“But,” cried Duncan, “I see no signs of — ” 


392 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


(( The gentle ones,” interrupted the scout; “ the varlet 
has found a way to carry them, until he supposed he 
had thrown any followers off the scent. My life on it, 
we see their pretty little feet again before many rods go 
5 by.” 

The whole party now proceeded, following the course 
of the rill, keeping anxious eyes on the regular impres¬ 
sions. The water soon flowed into its bed again, but 
watching the ground on either side the foresters pur- 
10 sued their way, content with knowing that the trail lay 
beneath. More than half a mile was passed before the 
rill rippled close around the base of an extensive and 
dry rock. Here they paused to make sure that the 
Hurons had not quitted the water. 

15 It was fortunate they did so. For the quick and 
active Uncas soon found the impression of a foot on a 
bunch of moss, where it would seem an Indian had 
inadvertently trodden. Pursuing the direction given 
by this discovery, he entered the neighboring thicket, 
20 and struck the trail, as fresh and obvious as it had 
been before they reached the spring. Another shout 
announced the good fortune of the youth to his com¬ 
panions, and at once terminated the search. 

“ Ay, it has been planned with Indian judgment,” 
25 said the scout, when the party was assembled around 
the place; “ and would have blinded white eyes.” 

“ Shall we proceed ? ” demanded Heyward. 

“ Softly, softly; we know our path, but it is good to 
examine the formation of things. This is my schooling, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


893 


major; and if one neglects the book, there is little 
chance of learning from the open hand of Providence. 
All is plain but one thing, which is the manner that the 
knave contrived to get the gentle ones along the blind 
trail. Even a Huron would be too proud to let their 5 
tender feet touch the water.” 

“ Will this assist in explaining the difficulty ? ” said 
Heyward, pointing towards the fragments of a sort of 
hand-barrow, that had been rudely constructed of boughs 
and bound together with withes, and which now seemed 10 
carelessly cast aside as useless. 

“ ’Tis explained! ” cried the delighted Hawkeye. “ If 
them varlets have passed a minute, they have spent hours 
in striving to fabricate a lying end to their trail! Well, 
I’ve known them waste a day in the same manner to as 15 
little purpose. Here we have three pair of moccasins, 
and two of little feet. It is amazing that any mortal 
beings can journey on limbs so small! Pass me the 
thong of buckskin, Uncas, and let me take the length of 
this foot. By the Lord, it is no longer than a child’s, 20 
and yet the maidens are tall and comely. That Provi¬ 
dence is partial in its gifts, for its own wise reasons, the 
best and most contented of us must allow.” 

“ The tender limbs of my daughters are unequal to 
these hardships,” said Munro, looking at the light foot- 25 
steps of his children with a parent’s love; “we shall 
find their fainting forms in this desert.” 

“ Of that there is little cause of fear,” returned the 
scout, slowly shaking his head ; “ this is a firm and 


894 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


straight, though a light step, and not over long. See, 
the heel has hardly touched the ground *, and there the 
dark-hair has made a little jump from root to root. No, 
no ; my knowledge for it, neither of them was nigh faint- 
5 ing here-away. Now, the singer was beginning to be 
foot-sore and leg-weary, as is plain by his trail. There 
you see he slipped; here he has travelled wide and tot¬ 
tered ; and there, again, it looks as though he journeyed 
on snow-shoes. Ay, ay, a man who uses his throat 
10 altogether can hardly give his legs a proper training.” 

From such undeniable testimony, did the practised 
woodsman arrive at the truth, with nearly as much cer¬ 
tainty and precision as if he had been a witness of all 
those events, which his ingenuity so easily elucidated. 
15 Cheered by these assurances, and satisfied by a reason¬ 
ing that was so obvious, while it was so simple, the 
party resumed its course, after making a short halt to 
take a hurried and slight repast. 

When the meal was ended, the scout cast a glance 
20 upward at the setting sun, and pushed forward with a 
rapidity which compelled Heyward and the still vigor¬ 
ous Munro to exert all their muscles to equal. Their 
route now lay along the bottom which has already been 
mentioned. As the Hurons had made no further efforts 
25 to conceal their footsteps, the progress of the pursuers 
was no longer delayed by uncertainty. Before an hour 
had elapsed, however, the speed of Hawkeye sensibly 
abated, and his head, instead of maintaining its former 
direct and forward look, began to turn suspiciously from 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


395 


side to side, as if he were conscious of approaching dan¬ 
ger. He soon stopped again and waited for the whole 
party to come up. 

“ I scent the Hurons,” he said, speaking to the Mohi¬ 
cans ; “ yonder is open sky, through the tree-tops, and 
we are getting too nigh their encampment. Sagamore, 
you will take the hillside to the right; Uncas will bend 
along the brook to the left, while I will try the trail. If 
anything should happen, the call will be three croaks of 
a crow. I saw one of the birds fanning himself in the 
air just beyond the dead oak — another sign that we 
are touching an encampment.” 

The Indians departed their several ways without 
reply, while Hawkeye cautiously proceeded with the 
two gentlemen. Heyward soon pressed to the side of 
their guide, eager to catch an early glimpse of those 
enemies he had pursued with so much toil and anxiety. 
His companion told him to steal to the edge of the 
wood, which, as usual, was fringed with a thicket, and 
wait his coming, for he wished to examine certain sus¬ 
picious signs a little on one side. Duncan obeyed, and 
soon found himself in a situation to command a view 
which he found as extraordinary as it was novel. 

The trees of many acres had been felled, and the glow 
of a mild summer’s evening had fallen on the clearing, 
in beautiful contrast to the gray light of the forest. A 
short distance from the place where Duncan stood, the 
stream had seemingly expanded into a little lake, cover¬ 
ing most of the low land from mountain to mountain. 


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JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER . 


The water fell out of this wide basin in a cataract sc 
regular and gentle that it appeared rather to be the work 
of human hands than fashioned by nature. A hundred 
earthen dwellings stood on the margin of the lake, and 
5 even in its water, as though the latter had overflowed 
its usual banks. Their rounded roofs, admirably moulded 
for defence against the weather, denoted more of indus¬ 
try and foresight than the natives were wont to bestow 
on their regular habitations, much less on those they 
10 occupied for the temporary purposes of hunting and war. 
In short, the whole village or town, whichever it might 
be termed, possessed more of method and neatness of 
execution than the white men had been accustomed to 
believe belonged, ordinarily, to the Indian habits. It 
15 appeared, however, to be deserted. At least so thought 
Duncan for many minutes; but at length he fancied 
he discovered several human forms advancing towards 
him on all fours, and apparently dragging in their train 
some heavy, and, as he was quick to apprehend, some 
to formidable engine. Just then a few dark-looking heads 
gleamed out of the dwellings, and the place seemed 
suddenly alive with beings, which, however, glided 
from cover to cover so swiftly as to allow no opportu¬ 
nity of examining their humors or pursuits. Alarmed 
25 at these suspicious and inexplicable movements, he 
was about to attempt the signal of the crows, when 
the rustling of leaves at hand drew his eyes in another 
direction. 

The young man started, and recoiled a few paces in 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


897 


stinctively, when he found himself within a hundred 
yards of a stranger Indian. Recovering his recollection 
on the instant, instead of sounding an alarm which 
might prove fatal to himself, he remained stationary, an 
attentive observer of the other’s motions. 

An instant of calm observation served to assure Dun¬ 
can that he was undiscovered. The native, like himself, 
seemed occupied in considering the low dwellings of the 
village, and the stolen movements of its inhabitants. It 
was impossible to discover the expression of his features 
through the grotesque mask of paint, under which 
they were concealed; though Duncan fancied it was 
rather melancholy than savage. His head was shaved, 
as usual, with the exception of the crown, from whose 
tuft three or four faded feathers from a hawk’s wing 
were loosely dangling. A ragged calico mantle half en¬ 
circled his body, while his nether garment was composed 
of an ordinary shirt, the sleeves of which were made to 
perform the office that is usually executed by a much 
more commodious arrangement. His legs were bare, 
and sadly cut and torn by briers. The feet were, how¬ 
ever, covered with a pair of good deerskin moccasins. 
Altogether, the appearance of the individual was forlorn 
and miserable. 

Duncan was still curiously observing the person of his 
neighbor, when the scout stole silently and cautiously to 
his side. 

“ You see we have reached their settlement, or encamp¬ 
ment,” whispered the young man; “ and here is one of 


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398 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


the savages himself in a very embarrassing position for 
our further movements.” 

Hawkeye started and dropped his rifle, when, directed 
by the finger of his companion, the stranger came under 
5 his view. Then lowering the dangerous muzzle, he 
stretched forward his long neck, as if to assist a scrutiny 
that was already intensely keen. 

“ The imp is not a Huron,” he said, “ nor of any of the 
Canada tribes ; and yet you see, by his clothes, the knave 
10 has been plundering a white. Ay, Montcalm has raked 
the woods for his inroad, and a whooping, murdering set 
of varlets has he gathered together. Can you see where 
he has put his rifle or his bow ? ” 

“ He appears to have no arms; nor does he seem to be 
15 viciously inclined. Unless he communicate the alarm to 
his fellows, who, as you see, are dodging about the water, 
we have but little to fear from him.” 

The scout turned to Heyward, and regarded him a 
moment with unconcealed amazement. Then opening 
20 wide his mouth, he indulged in unrestrained and heart¬ 
felt laughter, though in that silent and peculiar manner, 
which danger had so long taught him to practise. 

Repeating the words, “ fellows who are dodging about 
the water ! ” he added, “ so much for schooling and pass- 
25 ing a boyhood in the settlements! The knave has long 
legs, though, and shall not be trusted. Do you keep him 
under your rifle, while I creep in behind, through the 
bush, and take him alive. Fire on no account.” 

Heyward had already permitted his companion to bury 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


399 


part of his person in the thicket, when stretching forth 
an arm, he arrested him, in order to ask — 

“ If I see you in danger, may I not risk a shot ? ” 

Hawkeye regarded him a moment, like one who knew 
not how to take the question; then nodding his head, 
he answered, still laughing, though inaudibly: 

“Fire a whole platoon, major.’ 7 

In the next moment he was concealed by the leaves. 
Duncan waited several minutes in feverish impatience, 
before he caught another glimpse of the scout. Then 
he reappeared, creeping along the earth, from which his 
dress was hardly distinguishable, directly in the rear of 
his intended captive. Having reached within a few 
yards of the latter, he arose to his feet silently and 
slowly. At that instant, several loud blows were struck 
on the water, and Duncan turned his eyes just in time to 
perceive that a hundred dark forms were plunging, in a 
body, into the troubled little sheet. Grasping his rifle, 
his looks were again bent on the Indian near him. 
Instead of taking the alarm, the unconscious savage 
stretched forward his neck, as if he also watched the 
movements about the gloomy lake, with a sort of silly 
curiosity. In the meantime, the uplifted hand of Hawk- 
eye was above him. But, without any apparent reason, 
it was withdrawn, and its owner indulged in another 
long, though still silent, fit of merriment. When the 
peculiar and hearty laughter of Hawkeye was ended, 
instead of grasping his victim by the throat, he tapped 
him lightly on the shoulder, and exclaimed aloud: 


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400 


JAMES FEN IM ORE COOPER. 


“ How now, friend ! have you a mind to teach the 
beavers to sing ? ” 

“ Even so,” was the ready answer. “ It would seem 
that the Being that gave them power to improve his 
gifts so well, would not deny them voices to proclaim 
his praise.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


401 


CHAPTER XXII. 

Bot. Are we all met? 

Qui. Pat-pat; and here’s a marvellous convenient place for our- 
rehearsal. — Shakspeare, A Midsummer-Night's Dream. 

The reader may better imagine, than we describe, the 
surprise of Heyward. His lurking Indians were sud¬ 
denly converted into four-footed beasts ; his lake into a 
beaver pond; his cataract into a dam, constructed by 
those industrious and ingenious quadrupeds; and a sus- 5 
pected enemy into his tried friend, David Gamut, the 
master of psalmody. The presence of the latter created 
so many unexpected hopes relative to the sisters, that, 
without a moment’s hesitation, the young man broke 
out of his ambush, and sprang forward to join the two 10 
principal actors in the scene. 

The merriment of Hawkeye was not easily appeased. 
Without ceremony, and with a rough hand, he twirled 
the supple Gamut around on his heel, and more than 
once affirmed that the Hurons had done themselves 15 
great credit in the fashion of his costume. Then seiz¬ 
ing the hand of the other, he squeezed it with a gripe 
that brought the tears into the eyes of the placid David, 
and wished him joy of his new condition. 


402 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


“ Yon were about opening your throat-practysings 
among the beavers, were ye ? ” he said. “ The cun¬ 
ning devils know half the trade already, for they beat 
the time with their tails, as you heard just now; and 
5 in good time it was too, or ‘ Kill-deer ’ might have 
sounded the first note among them. I have known 
greater fools, who could read and write, than an experi¬ 
enced old beaver; but as for squalling, the animals are 
born dumb! — What think you of such a song as 
10 this ? ” 

David shut his sensitive ears, and even Heyward, 
apprised as he was of the nature of the cry, looked up¬ 
ward in quest of the bird, as the cawing of a crow rang 
in the air about them. 

15 “ See,” continued the laughing scout, as he pointed 

towards the remainder of the party, who, in obedience 
to the signal, were already approaching; “ this is music, 
which has its natural virtues; it brings two good rifles 
to my elbow, to say nothing of the knives and toma- 
20 hawks. But we see that you are safe ; now tell us what 
has become of the maidens.” 

“ They are captives to the heathen,” said David ; “ and 
though greatly troubled in spirit, enjoying comfort and 
safety in the body.” 

25 “ Both ? ” demanded the breathless Hej^ward. 

“ Even so. Though our wayfaring has been sore, and 
our sustenance scanty, we have had little other cause 
for complaint, except the violence done our feelings by 
being thus led in captivity into a far land.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


403 


£e Bless ye for these very words ! ” exclaimed the trem¬ 
bling Munro; “ I shall then receive my babes spotless, 
and angel like, as I lost them! ” 

“ I know not that their delivery is at hand,” returned 
the doubting David; “ the leader of these savages is pos¬ 
sessed of an evil spirit that no power, short of Omnipo¬ 
tence, can tame. I have tried him, sleeping and wak¬ 
ing, but neither sounds nor language seem to touch his 
soul.” 

“ Where is the knave ? ” bluntly interrupted the scout. 
“ He hunts the moose to-day with his young men; and 
to-morrow, as I hear, they pass further into these forests, 
and nigher to the borders of Canada. The elder maiden 
is conveyed to a neighboring people, whose lodges are 
situate beyond yonder black pinnacle of rock ; while the 
younger is detained among the women of the Hurons, 
whose dwellings are but two short miles hence, on a 
tableland where the fire has done the office of the axe 
and prepared the place for their reception.” 

“ Alice, my gentle Alidfe ! ” murmured Heyward; “ she 
has lost the consolation of her sister’s presence ! ” 

“Even so. But so far as praise and thanksgiving in 
psalmody can temper the spirit in affliction, she has not 
Buffered.” 

“ Has she then a heart for music ?” 

“ Of the graver and more solemn character, though it 
must be acknowledged, that, in spite of all my endeav¬ 
ors, the maiden weeps oftener than she smiles. At such 
moments I forbear to press the holy songs; but there 


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404 


JAMES FENlMORE COOPER. 


are many sweet and comfortable periods of satisfactory 
communication, when the ears of the savages are as¬ 
tounded with the upliftings of our voices.” 

“And why are you permitted to go at large, un- 
5 watched?” 

David composed his features into what he intended 
should express an air of modest humility, before he 
meekly replied: 

“ Little be the praise to such a worm as I. But, though 
10 the power of psalmody was suspended in the terrible 
business of that field of blood, through which we passed, 
it has recovered its influence, even over the souls of the 
heathen, and I am suffered to go and come at will.” 

The scout laughed, and tapping his own forehead sig- 
15 nificantly, he perhaps explained the singular indulgence 
more satisfactorily, when he said: 

“ The Indians never harm a non-composser. But 
why, when the path lay open before your eyes, did you 
not strike back on your own trail (it is not so blind as 
20 that which a squirrel would make), and bring in the tid¬ 
ings to Edward ? ” 

The scout, remembering only his own sturdy and iron 
nature, had probably exacted a task that David under 
no circumstances could have performed. But, without 
25 entirely losing the meekness of his air, the latter was 
content to answer: 

“Though my soul would rejoice to visit the habita¬ 
tions of Christendom once more, my feet would rather 
follow the tender spirits intrusted to my keeping, even 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


405 


into the idolatrous province of the Jesuits, than take 
one step backward, while they pined in captivity and 
sorrow. 57 

Though the figurative language of David was not very 
intelligible, the sincere and steady expression of his eye 
and the glow on his honest countenance were not easily 
mistaken. Uncas pressed closer to his side and re¬ 
garded the speaker with a look of commendation, while 
his father expressed his satisfaction by the ordinary 
pithy exclamation of approbation. The scout shook his 
head, as he rejoined: 

“ The Lord never intended that the man should place 
all his endeavors in his throat, to the neglect of other 
and better gifts. But he has fallen into the hands of 
some silly woman, when he should have been gathering 
his education under a blue sky, among the beauties of 
the forest. Here, friend; I did intend to kindle a fire 
with this tooting whistle of thine, but as you value the 
thing, take it, and blow your best on it. 55 

Gamut received his pitch-pipe with as strong an ex¬ 
pression of pleasure, as he believed compatible with the 
grave functions he exercised. After essaying its virtues 
repeatedly in contrast with his own voice, and satisfying 
himself that none of its melody was lost, he made a very 
serious demonstration towards achieving a few stanzas 
of one of the longest effusions in the little volume, so 
often mentioned. 

Heyward, however, hastily interrupted his pious pur¬ 
pose, by continuing questions concerning the past and 


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406 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


present condition of his fellow captives, and in a manner 
more methodical than had been permitted by his feelings 
in the opening of their interview. David, though he 
regarded his treasure with longing eyes, was constrained 
5 to answer; especially as the venerable father took a 
part in the interrogatories, with an interest too imposing 
to be denied. Nor did the scout fail to throw in a per* 
tinent inquiry, whenever a fitting occasion presented. 
In this manner, though with frequent interruptions, 
10 which were filled with certain threatening sounds from 
the recovered instrument, the pursuers were put in pos¬ 
session of such leading circumstances as were likely to 
prove useful in accomplishing their great and engross¬ 
ing object — the recovery of the sisters. The narrative 
15 of David was simple and the facts but few. 

Magua had waited on the mountain until a safe mo¬ 
ment to retire presented itself, when he had descended 
and taken the route along the western side of the Hori- 
can, in the direction of the Canadas. As the subtle 
20 Huron was familiar with the paths, and well knew there 
was no immediate danger of pursuit, their progress had 
been moderate and far from fatiguing. It appeared, 
from the unembellished statement of David, that his 
own presence had been rather endured than desired; 
25 though even Magua had not been entirely exempt from 
that veneration with which the Indians regard those 
whom the Great Spirit has visited in their intellects. 
At night the utmost care had been taken of the cap- 
tives, both to prevent injury from the damps of the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


407 


woods and to guard against an escape. At the spring 
the horses were turned loose, as has been seen; and not¬ 
withstanding the remoteness and length of their trail, 
the artifices already named were resorted to, in order to 
cut off every clew to their place of retreat. On their 
arrival at the encampment of his people, Magua, in 
obedience to a policy seldom departed from, separated 
his prisoners. Cora had been sent to a tribe that tem¬ 
porarily occupied an adjacent valley, though David was 
far too ignorant of the customs and history of the na¬ 
tives to be able to declare anything satisfactory concern¬ 
ing their name or character. He only knew that they 
had not engaged in the late expedition against William 
Henry; that, like the Hurons themselves, they were 
allies of Montcalm; and that they maintained an amica¬ 
ble, though a watchful, intercourse with the warlike and 
savage people whom chance had, for a time, brought in 
such close and disagreeable contact with themselves. 

The Mohicans and the scout listened to his inter¬ 
rupted and imperfect narrative with an interest that 
obviously increased as he proceeded, and it was while 
attempting to explain the pursuits of the community 
in which Cora was detained, that the latter abruptly 
demoded: 

u Did you see the fashion of their knives ? w r ere 
they of English or French formation ? ” 

“ My thoughts were bent on no such vanities, but 
rather mingled in consolation with those of the maid¬ 
ens.” 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“The time may come when you will not consider the 
knife of a savage such a despisable vanity,” returned 
the scout, with a strong expression of contempt for 
the other’s dulness. “ Had they held their corn-feast 
5 —or can you say anything of the totems of their 
tribe ? ” 

“ Of corn, we had many and plentiful feasts; for the 
grain, being in the milk, is both sweet to the mouth and 
comfortable to the stomach. Of totem, I know not the 
10 meaning; but if it appertaineth in any wise to the art 
of Indian music, it need not be inquired after at their 
hands. They never join their voices in praise, and it 
would seem that they are among the profanest of the 
idolatrous.” 

15 “ Therein you belie the nature of an Indian. Even 

the Mingo adores but the true and living God ! ’Tis a 
wicked fabrication of the whites, and I say it to the 
shame of my color, that would make the warrior bow 
down before images of his own creation. It is true, 
20 they endeavor to make truces with the wicked one — as 
who would not with an enemy he cannot conquer — but 
they look up for favor and assistance to the Great and 
Good Spirit only.” 

“ It may be so,” said David; “ but I have seen strange 
25 and fantastic images drawn in their paint, of which 
their admiration and care savored of spiritual pride; 
especially one, and that, too, a foul and loathsome ob¬ 
ject.” 

“ Was it a sarpent ? ” quickly demanded the scout. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


409 


“ Much the same. It was in the likeness of an abject 
and creeping tortoise ! ” 

“ Hugh ! ” exclaimed both the attentive Mohicans in a 
breath; while the scout shook his head with the air of 
one who had made an important, but by no means a 
pleasing discovery. Then the father spoke, in the lan¬ 
guage of the Delawares, and with a calmness and dignity 
that instantly arrested the attention even of those to 
whom his words were unintelligible. His gestures were 
impressive, and at times energetic. Once he lifted his 
arm on high, and as it descended, the action threw aside 
the folds of his light mantle, a finger resting on his 
breast, as if he would enforce his meaning by the atti¬ 
tude. Duncan’s eyes followed the movement, and he 
perceived that the animal just mentioned was beauti¬ 
fully, though faintly, worked in a blue tint on the 
swarthy breast of the chief. All that he had ever 
heard of the violent separation of the vast tribes of 
the Delawares, rushed across his mind, and he awaited 
the proper moment to speak, with a suspense that was 
rendered nearly intolerable by his interest in the stake. 
His wish, however, was anticipated by the scout,, who 
turned from his red friend, saying: 

“ We have found that which may be good or evil to 
us, as Heaven disposes. The Sagamore is of the high 
blood of the Delawares, and is the great chief of their 
Tortoises. That some of this stock are among the 
people of whom the singer tells us, is plain, by his 
words; and had he but spent half the breath in prudent 


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410 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


questions that he has blown away in making a trumpet 
of his throat, we might have known how many warriors 
they numbered. It is, altogether, a dangerous path we 
move in; for a friend whose face is turned from you 
5 often bears a bloodier mind than the enemy who seeks 
your scalp ! ” 

“ Explain/’ said Duncan. 

“ ’Tis a long and melancholy tradition, and one I little 
like to think of; for it is not to be denied that the 
10 evil has been mainly done by men with white skins. 
But it has ended in turning the tomahawk of brother 
against brother, and brought the Mingo and the Dela* 
ware to travel in the same path.” 

u You then suspect it is a portion of that people 
15 among whom Cora resides ? ” 

The scout nodded his head in assent, though he seemed 
anxious to waive the further discussion of a subject that 
appeared painful. The impatient Duncan now made 
several hasty and desperate propositions to attempt 
20 the release of the sisters. Munro seemed to shake 
off his apathy, and listened to the wild schemes of the 
young man with a deference that his gray hairs and 
reverend years should have denied. But the scout, 
after suffering the ardor of the lover to expend itself a 
25 little, found means to convince him of the folly of pre¬ 
cipitation in a matter that would require their coolest 
judgment and utmost fortitude. 

“ It would be well,” he added, “ to let this man go in 
again, as usual, and for him to tarry in the lodges, giv- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


411 


ing notice to the gentle ones of our approach, until we 
call him out, by signal, to consult. You know the cry 
of a crow, friend, from the whistle of the whippoorwill ? ” 

“ ’Tis a pleasing bird,” returned David, “ and has a 
soft and melancholy note, though the time is rather 
quick and ill-measured/’ 

“ He speaks of the wishtonwish,” said the scout; 
“ well, since you like his whistle, it shall be your signal. 
Remember, then, when you hear the whippoorwill’s call 
three times repeated, you are to come into the bushes, 
where the bird might be supposed — ” 

“ Stop,” interrupted Heyward; “I will accompany 
him.” 

“You!” exclaimed the astonished Hawkeye; “are 
you tired of seeing the sun rise and set ? ” 

“ David is a living proof that the Hurons can be 
merciful.” 

“ Ay, but David can use his throat as no man in his 
senses would pervart the gift.” 

“I too can play the madman, the fool, the hero; in 
short, any or every thing, to rescue her I love from such 
a captivity. Name your objections no longer; I am 
resolved.” 

Hawkeye regarded the young man a moment in 
speechless amazement. But Duncan, who, in deference 
to the other’s skill and services, had hitherto submitted 
somewhat implicitly to his dictation, now assumed the 
superior, with a manner that was not easily resisted. 
He waved his hand in sign of his dislike to all remon- 


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412 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


strance, and then, in more tempered language, he con 
tinued: 

“ You have the means of disguise; change me ; paint 
me, too, if you will; in short, alter me to anything — a 
5 fool.” 

“It is not for one like me to say that he who is 
already formed by so powerful a hand as Providence, 
stands in need of a change,” muttered the discontented 
scout. “When you send your parties abroad in war, 
10 you find it prudent, at least, to arrange the marks and 
places of encampment, in order that they who fight on 
your side may know when and where to expect a friend ? ” 

« Listen,” interrupted Duncan ; “ you have heard from 
this faithful follower of the captives that the Indians 
15 are of two tribes, if not of different nations. With one, 
whom you think to be a branch of the Delawares, is she 
you call the ‘ dark hair; ’ the other and younger of the 
ladies is undeniably with our declared enemies, the 
Hurons. It becomes my youth and rank to attempt 
20 the latter adventure. While you, therefore, are negoti¬ 
ating with your friends for the release of one of the 
sisters, I will effect that of the other, or die.” 

The awakened spirit of the young soldier gleamed in 
his eyes and his form became imposing under its influ- 
25 ence. Hawkeye, though too much accustomed to Indian 
artifices not to foresee all the danger of the experiment, 
knew not well how to combat this sudden resolution. 

Perhaps there was something in the proposal that 
suited his own hardy nature, and that secret love of 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


413 


desperate adventure which had increased with his ex¬ 
perience, until hazard and danger had become, in some 
measure, necessary to the enjoyment of his existence. 
Instead of continuing to oppose the scheme of Duncan, 
his humor suddenly altered, and he lent himself to its 5 
execution. 

“ Come,” he said, with a good-humored smile; “ the 
buck that will take to the water must be headed, and 
not followed. Chingachgook has as many different 
paints as the engineer officer’s wife, who takes down 1C 
natur’ on scraps of paper, making the mountains look 
like cocks of rusty hay, and placing the blue sky in 
reach of your hand — the Sagamore can use them too. 
Seat yourself on the log, and my life on it, he can soon 
make a natural fool of you, and that well to your liking.” 15 

Duncan complied, and the Mohican, who had been an 
attentive listener to the discourse, readily undertook the 
office. Long practised in all the subtle arts of his race, 
he drew, with great dexterity and quickness, the fantas¬ 
tic shadow that the natives were accustomed to consider 20 
as the evidence of a friendly and jocular disposition. 
Every line that could possibly be interpreted into a 
secret inclination for war was carefully avoided; while, 
on the other hand, he studied those conceits that might 
be construed into amity. 25 

In short, he entirely sacrificed every appearance of 
the warrior to the masquerade of a buffoon. Such ex¬ 
hibitions were not uncommon among the Indians; and 
as Duncan was already sufficiently disguised in his dress, 


414 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


there certainly did exist some reason for believing that, 
with his knowledge of French, he might pass for a jug¬ 
gler from Ticonderoga, straggling among the allied and 
friendly tribes. 

5 When he was thought to be sufficiently painted, the 
scout gave him much friendly advice, concerted signals, 
and appointed the place where they should meet in the 
event of mutual success. The parting between Munro 
and his young friend was more melancholy and feeling; 
10 still, the former submitted to the separation with an 
indifference that his warm and honest nature would 
never have permitted in a more healthful state of mind. 
The scout led Heyward aside, and acquainted him with 
his intention to leave the veteran in some safe encamp- 
15 ment in charge of Chingachgook, while he and Uncas 
pursued their inquiries among the people they had rea¬ 
son to believe were Delawares. Then renewing his 
cautions and advice, he concluded by saying with a 
solemnity and warmth of feeling, with which Duncan 
20 was deeply touched : 

“ And now God bless you ! You have shown a spirit 
that I like; for it is the gift of youth, more especially 
one of warm blood and a stout heart. But believe the 
warning of a man who has reason to know all he says to 
25 be true. You will have occasion for your best manhood, 
and for a sharper wit than what is to be gathered in 
books, afore you outdo the cunning or get the better of 
the courage of a Mingo. God bless you ! if the Hurons 
master your scalp, rely on the promise of one who has 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


415 


two stout warriors to back him. They shall pay for 
their victory with a life for every hair it holds. I say, 
young gentleman, may Providence bless your undertak¬ 
ing, which is altogether for good; and remember that 
to outwit the knaves it is lawful to practise things that 
may not be naturally the gift of a white skin.” 

Duncan shook his worthy and reluctant associate 
warmly by the hand, once more recommended his aged 
friend to his care, and returning his good wishes, he 
motioned to David to proceed. Hawkeye gazed after 
the high-spirited and adventurous young man for several 
moments in open admiration; then shaking his head 
doubtingly he turned and led his own division of the 
party into the concealment of the forest. 

The route taken by Duncan and David lay directly 
across the clearing of the beavers and along the margin 
of their pond. When the former found himself alone 
with one so simple, and so little qualified to render any 
assistance in desperate emergencies, he first began to be 
sensible of the difficulties of the task he had undertaken. 
The fading light increased the gloominess of the bleak 
and savage wilderness, that stretched so far on every 
side of him, and there was even a fearful character in 
the stillness of those little huts, that he knew were so 
abundantly peopled. It struck him as he gazed at the 
admirable structures and the wonderful precautions of 
their sagacious inmates, that even the brutes of these 
vast wilds were possessed of an instinct nearly com¬ 
mensurate with his own practised reason j and he could 


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25 


416 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


not reflect, without anxiety, on the unequal contest that 
he had so rashly courted. Then came the glowing image 
of Alice, her distress, her actual danger, and all the peril 
of his situation was forgotten. Cheering David, he 
5 moved on with the light and vigorous step of youth and 
enterprise. 

After making nearly a semicircle around the pond, 
they diverged from the water course and began to as¬ 
cend to the level of a slight elevation in that bottom 
10 land over which they journeyed. Within half an hour 
they gained the margin of another opening, that bore 
all the signs of having been also made by the beavers, 
and which those sagacious animals had probably been 
induced, by some accident, to abandon for the more eli- 
15 gible position they now occupied. A very natural sen¬ 
sation caused Duncan to hesitate a moment, unwilling 
to leave the cover of their bushy path, as a man pauses 
to collect his energies before he essays any hazardous 
experiment in which he is secretly conscious they will 
20 all be needed. He profited by the halt to gather such 
information as might be obtained from his short and 
hasty glances. 

On the opposite side of the clearing, and near the 
point where the brook tumbled over some rocks from 
25 a still higher level, some fifty or sixty lodges, rudely 
fabricated of logs, brush, and earth intermingled, were 
to be discovered. They were arranged without any 
order, and seemed to be constructed with very little at¬ 
tention to neatness or beauty. Indeed, so very inferior 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


417 


were they in the two latter particulars to the village 
Duncan had just seen, that he began to expect a second 
surprise, no less astonishing than the former. This 
expectation was in no degree diminished, when, by the 
doubtful twilight, he beheld twenty or thirty forms ris- 5 
ing alternately from the cover of the tall, coarse grass 
in front of the lodges, and then sinking again from the 
sight, as it were to burrow in the earth. By the sudden 
and hasty glimpses that he caught of these figures, they 
seemed more like dark glancing spectres, or some other 10 
unearthly beings, than creatures fashioned with the ordi¬ 
nary and vulgar materials of flesh and blood. A gaunt, 
naked form was seen for a single instant, tossing its 
arms wildly in the air, and then the spot it had filled 
was vacant; the figure appearing suddenly in some other 15 
and distant place, or being succeeded by another, pos¬ 
sessing the same mysterious character. David, observ¬ 
ing that his companion lingered, pursued the direction 
of his gaze, and in some measure recalled the recollec¬ 
tion of Heyward by speaking. 20 

“ There is much fruitful soil uncultivated here,” he 
said ; “ and I may add, without the sinful leaven of self¬ 
commendation, that since my short sojourn in these 
heathenish abodes, much good seed has been scattered 
by the wayside.” 25 

*< The tribes are fonder of the chase, than of the arts 
of men of labor,” returned the unconscious Duncan, still 
gazing at the objects of his wonder. 

< ( It is rather joy than labor to the spirit to lift up the 


418 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


voice in praise; but sadly do these boys abuse their 
gifts. Rarely have I found any of their age on whom 
nature has so freely bestowed the elements of psalmody ; 
and surely, surely, there are none who neglect them 
5 more. Three nights have I now tarried here, and three 
several times have I assembled the urchins to join in 
sacred song, and as often have they responded to my 
efforts with whoopings and howlings that have chilled 
my soul.” 

10 “ Of whom speak you ? ” 

“ Of those children of the devil, who waste the pre¬ 
cious moments in yonder idle antics. Ah ! the whole¬ 
some restraint of discipline is but little known among 
this self-abandoned people. In a country of birches, a 
15 rod is never seen ; and it ought not to appear a marvel 
in my eyes that the choicest blessings of Providence are 
wasted in such cries as these.” 

David closed his ears against the juvenile pack, whose 
yell just then rang shrilly through the forest; and Dun- 
20 can, suffering his lip to curl as in mockery of his own 
superstition, said firmly: 

“We will proceed.” 

Without removing the safeguards from his ears, the 
master of song complied, and together they pursued their 
25 way towards what David was sometimes wont to call 
“ the tents of the Philistines.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


419 


CHAPTEK XXIII. 

— But though the beast of game 
The privilege of chase may claim; 

Though space and law the stag we lend, 

Ere hound we slip, or how we bend; 

Whoever recked, where, how, or when 
The prowling fox was trapped or slain. 

Scott, The Lady of the Lake. 

It is unusual to find an encampment of the natives, 
like those of the more instructed whites, guarded by the 
presence of armed men. Well informed of the approach 
of every danger, while it is yet at a distance, the Indian 
generally rests secure under his knowledge of the signs 5 
of the forest, and the long and difficult paths that sepa¬ 
rate him from those he has most reason to dread. But 
the enemy who, by any lucky occurrence of accidents, 
has found means to elude the vigilance of the scouts, 
will seldom meet with sentinels nearer home to sound 10 
the alarm. In addition to this general usage, the tribes 
friendly to the French knew too well the weight of the 
blow that had just been struck, to apprehend any imme¬ 
diate danger from the hostile nations that were tributary 
to the crown of Britain. 15 

When Duncan and David, therefore, found themselves 
in the centre of the children, who played the antics 


420 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


already mentioned, it was without the least previous 
intimation of their approach. But so soon as they were 
observed, the whole of the juvenile pack raised, by com¬ 
mon consent, a shrill and warning whoop ; and then sank, 
5 as it were by magic, from before the sight of their visi¬ 
tors. The naked, tawny bodies of the crouching urchins 
blended so nicely, at that hour with the withered herbage, 
that at first it seemed as if the earth had, in truth, swal¬ 
lowed up their forms; though when surprise permitted 
10 Duncan to bend his own wondering looks more curiously 
about the spot, he found them everywhere met by dark, 
quick, and rolling eye-balls. 

Gathering no encouragement from this startling pre¬ 
sage of the nature of the scrutiny he was likely to 
15 undergo from the more mature judgments of the men, 
there was an instant when the young soldier would have 
retreated. It was, however, too late to appear to hesi¬ 
tate. The cry of the children had drawn a dozen war¬ 
riors to the door of the nearest lodge, where they stood, 
20 clustered in a dark and savage group, gravely awaiting 
the nearer approach of those who had unexpectedly come 
among them. 

David, in some measure familiarized to the scene, led 
the way with a steadiness that no slight obstacle was 
25 likely to disconcert, into this very building. It was the 
principal edifice of the village, though roughly con¬ 
structed of the bark and branches of trees; being the 
lodge in which the tribe held its councils and public 
meetings during their temporary residence on the bor- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


421 


ders of the English province. Duncan found it difficult 
to assume the necessary appearance of unconcern, as he 
brushed the dark and powerful frames of the savages 
who thronged its threshold ; but, conscious that his exis¬ 
tence depended on his presence of mind, he trusted to 
the discretion of his companion, whose footsteps he 
closely followed, endeavoring, as he proceeded, to rally 
his thoughts for the occasion. His blood curdled when 
he found himself in absolute contact with such fierce and 
implacable enemies; but he so far mastered his feelings 
as to pursue his way into the centre of the lodge, with 
an exterior that did not betray the weakness. Imitating 
the example of the deliberate Gamut, he drew a bundle 
of fragrant brush from beneath a pile that filled a corner 
of the hut, and seated himself in silence. 

So soon as their visitor had passed, the observant 
warriors fell back from the entrance, and, arranging 
themselves about him, they seemed patiently to await 
the moment when it might comport with the dignity of 
the stranger to speak. By far the greater number stood 
leaning, in lazy, lounging attitudes, against the upright 
posts that supported the crazy building, while three or 
four of the oldest and most distinguished of the chiefs 
placed themselves on the earth, a little more in advance. 

A flaring torch was burning in the place, and sent its 
red glare from face to face and figure to figure, as it 
wavered in the currents of air. Duncan profited by its 
light to read the probable character of his reception in 
the countenances of his hosts. But his ingenuity availed 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


422 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


him little against the cold artifices of the people he had 
encountered. The chiefs in front scarce cast a glance at 
his person, keeping their eyes on the ground, with an air 
that might have been intended for respect, but which it 
5 was quite easy to construe into distrust. The men in 
shadow were less reserved. Duncan soon detected their 
searching but stolen looks, which, in truth, scanned his 
person and attire inch by inch; leaving no emotion of 
the countenance, no gesture, no line of the paint, nor 
10 even the fashion of a garment unheeded, and without 
its comment. 

At length one whose hair was beginning to be sprin¬ 
kled with gray, but whose sinewy limbs and firm tread 
announced that he was still equal to the duties of man- 
15 hood, advanced out the gloom of a corner, whither he 
had probably posted himself to make his observations 
unseen, and spoke. He used the language of the Wyan- 
dots, or Hurons: his words were, consequently, unintel¬ 
ligible to Heyward, though they seemed, by the gestures 
20 that accompanied them, to be uttered more in courtesy 
than anger. The latter shook his head, and made a ges¬ 
ture indicative of his inability to reply. 

“Do none of my brothers speak the French or the 
English ? ” he said, in the former language, looking about 
25 him from countenance to countenance, in hopes of finding 
a nod of assent. 

Though more than one head turned, as if to catch the 
meaning of his words, they remained unanswered. 

“ I should be grieved to think,” continued Duncan, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


423 


speaking slowly, and using the simplest French of which 
he was the master, “to believe that none of this wise 
and brave nation understand the language that the 
‘ Grand Monarque’ uses when he talks to his children. 
His heart would be heavy, did he believe his red war- 5 
riors paid him so little respect.” 

A long and grave pause succeeded, during which no 
movement of a limb nor any expression of an eye be¬ 
trayed the impression produced by his remark. Duncan, 
who knew that silence was a virtue amongst his hosts, 10 
gladly had recourse to the custom, in order to arrange 
his ideas. At length the same warrior who had before 
addressed him replied, by dryly demanding in the lan¬ 
guage of the Canadas: 

“ When our Great Father speaks to his people, is it 15 
with the tongue of a Huron ? ” 

“ He knows no difference in his children, whether the 
color of the skin be red or black or white,” returned 
Duncan, evasively; “ though chiefly is he satisfied with 
the brave Hurons.” 20 

“In what manner will he speak,” demanded the 
wary chief, “ when the runners count to him the scalps 
which five nights ago grew on the heads of the Yen- 
geese ? ” 

“ They were his enemies,” said Duncan, shuddering 25 
involuntarily; “ and, doubtless, he will say, ‘ it is good ; 
my Hurons are very valiant .’ 99 

“ Our Canada father does not think it. Instead of 
luoking forward to reward his Indians, his eyes are 


424 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


turned backward. He sees the dead Yengeese, but no 
Huron. What can this mean ? ” 

“A great chief, like him, has more thoughts than 
tongues. He looks to see that no enemies are on his 
5 trail.” 

“ The canoe of a dead warrior will not float on the 
Horican,” returned the savage gloomily. “His ears are 
open to the Delawares, who are not our friends, and 
they fill them with lies.” 

10 “ It cannot be. See; he has bid me, who am a man 

that knows the art of healing, to go to his children, the 
red Hurons of the Great Lakes, and ask if any are sick.” 

Another silence succeeded this annunciation of the 
character Duncan had assumed. Every eye was simul- 
15 taneously bent on his person, as if to inquire into the 
truth or falsehood of the declaration, with an intelligence 
and keenness, that caused the subject of their scrutiny 
to tremble for the result. He was, however, relieved 
again by the former speaker. 

20 “ Do the cunning men of the Canadas paint their 

skins ? ” the Huron coldly continued; “ we have heard 
them boast that their faces were pale.” 

“ When an Indian chief comes among his white 
fathers,” returned Duncan, with great steadiness, “ he 
25 lays aside his buffalo robe, to carry the shirt that is 
offered him. My brothers have given me paint, and I 
wear it.” 

A low murmur of applause announced that the com¬ 
pliment to the tribe was favorably received. The 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


425 


elderly chief made a gesture of commendation, which 
was answered by most of his companions, who each 
threw forth a hand and uttered a brief exclamation 
of pleasure. Duncan began to breathe more freely, 
believing that the weight of his examination was past; 
and as he had already prepared a simple and probable 
tale to support his pretended occupation, his hopes of 
ultimate success grew brighter. 

After a silence of a few moments, as if adjusting his 
thoughts in order to make a suitable answer to the 
declaration their guest had just given, another warrior 
arose and placed himself in an attitude to speak. 
While his lips were yet in the act of parting, a low 
but fearful sound arose from the forest, and was imme¬ 
diately succeeded by a high, shrill yell, that was drawn 
out until it equalled the longest and most plaintive 
howl of the wolf. The sudden and terrible interrup¬ 
tion caused Duncan to start from his seat, unconscious 
of everything but the effect produced by so frightful 
a cry. At the same moment the warriors glided in a 
body from the lodge, and the outer air was filled with 
loud shouts that nearly drowned those awful sounds 
which were still ringing beneath the arches of the 
woods. Unable to command himself any longer, the 
youth broke from the place, and presently stood in 
the centre of a disorderly throng that included nearly 
everything having life, within the limits of the encamp¬ 
ment. Men, women, and children 5 the aged, the infirm, 
the active, and the strong, were alike abroad; some 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


426 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


exclaiming aloud, others clapping their hands with a 
joy that seemed frantic, and all expressing their savage 
pleasure in some unexpected event. Though astounded 
at first by the uproar, Heyward was soon enabled to 
5 find its solution by the scene that followed. 

There yet lingered sufficient light in the heavens to 
exhibit those bright openings among the tree-tops, 
where different paths left the clearing to enter the 
depths of the wilderness. Beneath one of them, a line 
10 of warriors issued from the woods and advanced slowly 
toward the dwellings. One in front bore a short pole, 
on which, as it afterwards appeared, were suspended 
several human scalps. The startling sounds that Dun¬ 
can had heard, were what the whites have not inappro- 
L5 priately called the “ death-halloo; ” and each repetition 
of the cry was intended to announce to the tribe the 
fate of an enemy. Thus far the knowledge of Heyward 
assisted him in the explanation; and as he now knew 
that the interruption was caused by the unlooked-for 
20 return of a successful war-party, every disagreeable sen¬ 
sation was quieted in inward congratulations for the 
opportune relief and insignificance it conferred on him¬ 
self. 

When at the distance of a few hundred feet from the 
25 lodges, the newly arrived warriors halted. Their plain¬ 
tive and terrific cry, which was intended to represent 
equally the wailings of the dead and the triumph of the 
victors, had entirely ceased. One of their number now 
called aloud, in words that were far from appalling, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


427 


though not more intelligible to those for whose ears 
they were intended, than their expressive yells. It 
would be difficult to convey a suitable idea of the sav¬ 
age ecstasy with which the news thus imparted was 
received. The whole encampment in a moment became 
a scene of the most violent bustle and commotion. The 
warriors drew their knives, and, flourishing them, they 
arranged themselves in two lines, forming a lane that 
extended from the war-party to the lodges. The squaws 
seized clubs, axes, or whatever weapon of offence first 
offered itself to their hands, and rushed eagerly to act 
their part in the cruel game that was at hand. Even 
the children would not be excluded; but boys, little able 
to wield the instruments, tore the tomahawks from the 
belts of their fathers, and stole into the ranks, apt imi¬ 
tators of the savage traits exhibited by their parents. 

Large piles of brush lay scattered about the clearing, 
and a wary and aged squaw was occupied in firing as 
many as might serve to light the coming exhibition. 
As the flame arose, its power exceeded that of the part¬ 
ing day, and assisted to render objects at the same time 
more distinct and more hideous. The whole scene 
formed a striking picture, whose frame was composed 
by the dark and tall border of pines. The warriors 
just arrived were the most distant figures. A little in 
advance stood two men, who were apparently selected 
from the rest as the principal actors in what was to 
follow. The light was not strong enough to render their 
features distinct, though it was quite evident that they 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


428 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


were governed by very different emotions. While one 
stood erect and firm, prepared to meet his fate like a 
hero, the other bowed his head, as if palsied by terror 
or stricken with shame. The high-spirited Duncan felt 
5 a powerful impulse of admiration and pity towards the 
former, though no opportunity could offer to exhibit his 
generous emotions. He watched his slightest move¬ 
ment, however, with eager eyes; and, as he traced the 
fine outline of his admirably proportioned and active 
10 frame, he endeavored to persuade himself that if the 
powers of man, seconded by such noble resolution, could 
bear one harmless through so severe a trial, the youthful 
captive before him might hope for success in the hazard¬ 
ous race he was about to run. Insensibly the young 
15 man drew nigher to the swarthy lines of the Hurons, 
and scarcely breathed, so intense became his interest in 
the spectacle. Just then the signal yell was given, and 
the momentary quiet which had preceded it was broken 
by a burst of cries that far exceeded any before heard. 
20 The most abject of the two victims continued motionless ; 
but the other bounded from the place at the cry with 
the activity and swiftness of a deer. Instead of rushing 
through the hostile lines, as had been expected, he just 
entered the dangerous defile, and before time was given 
25 for a single blow, turned short, and leaping the heads of 
a row of children, he gained at once the exterior and 
safer side of the formidable array. The artifice was 
answered by a hundred voices raised in imprecations, 
and the whole of the excited multitude broke from their 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


429 


order and spread themselves about the place in wild 
confusion. 

A dozen blazing piles now shed their lurid brightness 
on the place, which resembled some unhallowed and 
supernatural arena, in which malicious demons had 
assembled to act their bloody and lawless rites. The 
forms in the background looked like unearthly beings, 
gliding before the eye and cleaving the air with frantic 
and unmeaning gestures; while the savage passions of 
such as passed the flames were rendered fearfully dis¬ 
tinct by the gleams that shot athwart their dusky but 
inflamed visages. 

It will easily be understood that amid such a con¬ 
course of vindictive enemies no breathing time was 
allowed the fugitive. There was a single moment, when 
it seemed as if he would have reached the forest, but 
the whole body of his captors threw themselves before 
him, and drove him back into the centre of his relentless 
persecutors. Turning like a headed deer, he shot, with 
the swiftness of an arrow, through a pillar of forked 
flame, and passing the whole multitude harmless, he 
appeared on the opposite side of the clearing. Here, 
too, he was met and turned by a few of the older and 
more subtle of the Hurons. Once more he tried the 
throng, as if seeking safety in its blindness, and then 
several moments succeeded, during which Duncan be¬ 
lieved the active and courageous young stranger was 
lost. 

Nothing could be distinguished but a dark mass of 


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430 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


human forms, tossed and involved in inexplicable con¬ 
fusion. Arms, gleaming knives, and formidable clubs 
appeared above them, but the blows were evidently given 
at random. The awful effect was heightened by the 
5 piercing shrieks of the women and the fierce yells of the 
warriors. Now and then Duncan caught a glimpse of 
a light form cleaving the air in some desperate bound, 
and he rather hoped than believed that the captive yet 
retained the command of his astonishing powers of 
10 activity. Suddenly the multitude rolled backward and 
approached the spot where he himself stood. The 
heavy body in the rear pressed upon the women and chil¬ 
dren in front and bore them to the earth. The stranger 
reappeared in the confusion. Human power could not, 
16 however, much longer endure so severe a trial. Of this 
the captive seemed conscious. Profiting by the momen¬ 
tary opening, he darted from among the warriors and 
made a desperate, and what seemed to Duncan, a final 
effort to gain the wood. As if aware that no danger 
20 was to be apprehended from the young soldier, the fu¬ 
gitive nearly brushed his person in his flight. A tali 
and powerful Huron, who had husbanded his forces, 
pressed close upon his heels, and with an uplifted arm 
menaced a fatal blow. Duncan thrust forth a foot, and 
25 the shock precipitated the eager savage headlong many 
feet in advance of his intended victim. Thought itself 
is not quicker than was the motion with which the 
latter profited by the advantage; he turned, gleamed 
like a meteor again before the eyes of Duncan, and at 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


431 


the next moment, when the latter recovered his recol¬ 
lection and gazed around in quest of the captive, he 
saw him quietly leaning against a small painted post, 
which stood before the door of the principal lodge. 

Apprehensive that the part he had taken in the 5 
escape might prove fatal to himself, Duncan left the 
place without delay. He followed the crowd, which 
drew nigh the lodges, gloomy and sullen, like any other 
multitude that had been disappointed in an execution. 
Curiosity, or perhaps a better feeling, induced him to 10 
approach the stranger. He found him standing with 
one arm cast about the protecting post, and breathing 
thick and hard after his incredible exertions, but still 
disdaining to permit a single sign of suffering to escape. 
His person was now protected by immemorial and 15 
sacred usage, until the tribe in council had deliberated 
and determined on his fate. It was not difficult, how¬ 
ever, to foretell the result, if any presage could be drawn 
from the feelings of those who crowded the place. 

There was no term of abuse known to the Huron 20 
vocabulary that the disappointed women did not lavishly 
expend on the successful stranger. They flouted at his 
efforts and told him, with bitter scoffs, that his feet 
were better than his hands, and that he merited wings, 
while he knew not the use of an arrow or a knife. To 25 
all this, the captive made no reply; but was content 
to preserve an attitude in which dignity was singularly 
blended with disdain. Exasperated as much by his 
composure as by his good fortune, their words became 


432 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


unintelligible and were succeeded by shrill, piercing 
yells. Just then the crafty squaw, who had taken the 
necessary precaution to fire the piles, made her way 
through the throng and cleared a place for herself in 
5 front of the captive. The squalid and withered person 
of this hag might well have obtained for her the char¬ 
acter of possessing more than human cunning. Throw¬ 
ing back her light vestment, she stretched forth her 
long skinny arm in derision, and using the language of 
10 the Lenape, as more intelligible to the subject of her 
gibes, she commenced aloud: 

“ Look you, Delaware ! ” she said, snapping her fingers 
in his face; “ your nation is a race of women, and the 
hoe is better fitted to your hands than the gun. Your 
15 squaws are the mothers of deer; but if a bear or a wild 
cat or a serpent were born among you, ye would flee. 
The Huron girls shall make you petticoats, and we will 
find you a husband.” 

A loud burst of savage and taunting laughter suc- 
20 ceeded this attack, during which the soft and musical 
merriment of the younger females strangely chimed 
with the cracked voice of their older and more malignant 
companion. But the stranger was superior to all their 
efforts. His head was immovable; nor did he betray 
25 the slightest consciousness that any were present, except 
when his haughty eye rolled towards the dusky forms 
of the warriors, who stalked in the background, silent 
and sullen observers of the scene. 

Infuriated at the self-command of the captive, the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


433 


woman placed her arms akimbo, and, throwing herself 
into a posture of defiance, she broke out anew in a tor¬ 
rent of words that no art of ours could commit success¬ 
fully to paper. Her breath was, however, expended in 
vain; for, although distinguished in her nation as a 5 
proficient in the art of abuse, she was permitted to work 
herself into such a fury as actually to foam at the 
mouth, without causing a muscle to vibrate in the mo¬ 
tionless figure of the stranger. The effect of his indif¬ 
ference began to extend itself to the other spectators; 10 
and a youngster, who was just quitting the condition of 
a boy to enter the state of manhood, attempted to assist 
the termagant, by flourishing his tomahawk before their 
victim, and adding his empty boasts to the taunts of the 
woman. Then, indeed, the captive turned his face 15 
towards the light, and looked down on the stripling with 
an expression that was even superior to contempt. At 
the next moment, he resumed his quiet and reclining 
attitude against the post. But the change of posture 
had permitted Duncan to exchange glances with the firm 20 
and piercing eyes of Uncas. 

Breathless with amazement, and heavily oppressed 
with the critical situation of his friend, Heyward re¬ 
coiled before the look, trembling lest its meaning might, 
in some unknown manner, hasten the prisoner’s fate. 25 
There was not, however, any instant cause for such an 
apprehension. Just then a warrior forced his way into 
the exasperated crowd. Motioning the women and 
children aside with a stern gesture, he took Uncas by 


434 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


the arm and led him towards the door of the council 
lodge. Thither all the chiefs and most of the distin¬ 
guished warriors followed, among whom the anxious 
Heyward found means to enter without attracting any 
5 dangerous attention to himself. 

A few minutes were consumed in disposing of those 
present in a manner suitable to their rank and influence 
in the tribe. An order very similar to that adopted in 
the preceding interview was observed ; the aged and 
10 superior chiefs occupying the area of the spacious apart¬ 
ment within the powerful light of a glaring torch, while 
their juniors and inferiors were arranged in the back¬ 
ground, presenting a dark outline of swarthy and sternly 
marked visages. In the very centre of the lodge, im- 
15 mediately under an opening that admitted the twinkling 
light of one or two stars, stood Uncas, calm, elevated, 
and collected. His high and haughty carriage was not 
lost on his captors, who often bent their looks on his 
person, with eyes which, while they lost none of their 
20 inflexibility of purpose,* plainly betrayed their admira¬ 
tion of the stranger’s daring. 

The case was different with the individual whom Dun¬ 
can had observed to stand forth with his friend pre¬ 
viously to the desperate trial of speed ; and who, instead 
25 of joining in the chase, had remained, throughout its 
turbulent uproar, like a cringing statue, expressive of 
shame and disgrace. Though not a hand had been ex¬ 
tended to greet him, nor yet an eye had condescended to 
watch his movements, he had also entered the lodge, as 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 435 

though impelled by a fate to whose decrees he submitted, 
seemingly, without a struggle. Heyward profited by the 
first opportunity to gaze in his face, secretly apprehen¬ 
sive he might find the features of another acquaintance, 
but they proved to be those of a stranger, and, what was 
still more inexplicable, of one who bore all the distinc¬ 
tive marks of a Huron warrior. Instead of mingling with 
his tribe, however, he sat apart, a solitary being in a mul¬ 
titude, his form shrinking into a crouching and abject 
attitude, as if anxious to fill as little space as possible. 
When each individual had taken his proper station and 
a silence reigned in the place, the gray-haired chief, 
already introduced to the reader, spoke aloud in the 
language of the Lenni Lenape. 

“Delaware/’ he said, “though one of a nation of 
women, you have proved yourself a man. I would give 
you food, but he who eats with a Huron should become 
his friend. Rest in peace till the morning sun, when 
our last words shall be spoken.” 

“ Seven nights and as many summer days have I 
fasted on the trail of the Hurons,” Uncas coldly replied; 
“ the children of the Lenape know how to travel the 
path of the just without lingering to eat.” 

“ Two of my young men are in pursuit of your com¬ 
panion,” resumed the other, without appearing to regard 
the boast of his captive; “ when they get back, then will 
our wise men say to you — ‘ live or die.’ ” 

“ Has a Huron no ears ? ” scornfully exclaimed Uncas; 
“twice since he has been your prisoner has the Dela- 


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486 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


ware heard a gun that he knows. Your young men will 
never come back.” 

A short and sullen pause succeeded this assertion. 
Duncan, who understood the Mohican to allude to the 
5 fatal rifle of the scout, bent forward in earnest observa¬ 
tion of the effect it might produce on the conquerors; 
but the chief was content with simply retorting : 

“ If the Lenape are so skilful, why is one of their 
bravest warriors here ? ” 

10 “ He followed in the steps of a flying coward and fell 

into a snare. The cunning beaver may be caught.” 

As Uncas thus replied, he pointed with his finger 
towards the solitary Huron, but without deigning to 
bestow any other notice on so unworthy an object. The 
15 words of the answer and the air of the speaker produced 
powerful sensation among his auditors. Every eye 
rolled sullenly toward the individual indicated by the 
simple gesture, and a low, threatening murmur passed 
through the crowd. The ominous sounds reached the 
20 outer door, and the women and children pressing into 
the throng, no gap had been left between shoulder 
and shoulder, that was not now filled with the dark 
lineaments of some eager and curious human counte¬ 
nance. 

25 In the meantime the more aged chiefs in the centre 
communed with each other in short and broken sen¬ 
tences. Hot a word was uttered that did not convey 
the meaning of the speaker in the simplest and most 
energetic form. Again a long and deeply solemn pause 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


437 


took place. It was known by all present to be the grave 
precursor of a weighty and important judgment. They 
who composed the outer circle of faces were on tiptoe 
to gaze; and even the culprit, for an instant, forgot his 
shame in a deeper emotion, and exposed his abject fea¬ 
tures, in order to cast an anxious and troubled glance at 
the dark assemblage of chiefs. The silence was finally 
broken by the aged warrior so often named. He arose 
from the earth, and, moving past the immovable form 
of Uncas, placed himself in a dignified attitude before 
the offender. At that moment the withered squaw al¬ 
ready mentioned moved into the circle in a slow, side¬ 
ling sort of a dance, holding the torch, and muttering 
the indistinct words of what might have been a species 
of incantation. Though her presence was altogether an 
intrusion, it was unheeded. 

Approaching Uncas, she held the blazing brand in 
such a manner as to cast its red glare on his person 
and to expose the slightest emotion of his countenance. 
The Mohican maintained his firm and haughty attitude; 
and his eye, so far from deigning to meet her inquisitive 
look, dwelt steadily on the distance, as though it pene¬ 
trated the obstacles which impeded the view and looked 
deep into futurity. Satisfied with her examination, she 
left him, with a slight expression of pleasure, and pro¬ 
ceeded to practise the same trying experiment on her 
delinquent countryman. 

The young Huron was in his war paint, and very 
little of a finely moulded form was concealed by his 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


attire. The light rendered every limb and joint dis¬ 
cernible, and Duncan turned away in horror, when he 
saw they were writhing in irrepressible agony. The 
woman was commencing a low and plaintive howl at 
5 the sad and shameful spectacle, when the chief put forth 
his hand and gently pushed her aside. 

“ Beed-that-bends,” he said, addressing the young cul¬ 
prit by name, and in his proper language, “ though the 
Great Spirit has made you pleasant to the eyes, it would 
10 have been better that you had not been born. Your 
tongue is loud in the village, but in battle it is still. 
None of my young men strike the tomahawk deeper into 
the war-post — none of them so lightly on the Yengeese. 
The enemy know the shape of your back, but they have 
15 never seen the color of your eyes. Three times have 
they called on you to come, and as often did you forget 
to answer. Your name will never be mentioned again 
in your tribe — it is already forgotten.” 

As the chief slowly uttered these words, pausing im« 
20 pressively between each sentence, the culprit raised his 
face, in deference to the other’s rank and years. Shame, 
horror, and pride struggled fearfully in its lineaments. 
His eye, which was contracted with inward anguish, 
gleamed on the persons of those whose breath was his 
25 fame, and the latter emotion for an instant predomi¬ 
nated. He arose to his feet, and baring his bosom, 
looked steadily on the keen, glittering knife that was 
already upheld by his inexorable judge. As the weapon 
passed slowly into his heart, he even smiled, as if in 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


439 


joy at having found death less dreadful than he had 
anticipated, and fell heavily on his face at the feet of 
the rigid and unyielding form of Uncas. 

The squaw gave a l-oud and plaintive yell, dashed the 
torch to the earth, and buried everything in darkness. 5 
The whole shuddering group of spectators glided from 
the lodge, like troubled sprites; and Duncan thought 
that he and the yet throbbing body of the victim of an 
Indian judgment had now become its only tenants. 


440 


JAMES FEN 1M ORE COOPER. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

Thus spoke the sage: the kings without delay 
Dissolve the council, and their chief obey. 

Pope’s Homer's Iliad. 

A single moment served to convince the youth that 
he was mistaken. A hand was laid with a powerful 
pressure on his arm, and the low voice of Uncas mut¬ 
tered in his ears: 

5 “ The Hurons are dogs ! The sight of a coward’s 

blood can never make a warrior tremble. The ‘ Gray 
Head ’ and the Sagamore are safe, and the rifle of Hawk- 
eye is not asleep. Go — Uncas and the 4 Open Hand’ 
are now strangers. It is enough.” 

10 Heyward would gladly have heard more, but a gentle 
push from his friend urged him toward the door, and 
admonished him of the danger that might attend the 
discovery of their intercourse. Slowly and reluctantly 
yielding to the necessity, he quitted the place and min¬ 
is gled with the throng that hovered nigh. The dying fires 
in the clearing cast a dim and uncertain light on the 
dusky figures, that were silently stalking to and fro; 
and occasionally a brighter gleam than common glanced 
into the darkness of the lodge, and exhibited the figure 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


441 


of Uncas, still maintaining its upright attitude above 
the dead body of the Huron. 

A knot of warriors soon entered the place again, and 
reissuing, they bore the senseless remains into the ad¬ 
jacent woods. After this termination of the scene v 
Duncan wandered among the lodges, unquestioned, and 
unnoticed, endeavoring to find some trace of her, in 
whose behalf he incurred the risk he ran. In the pres¬ 
ent temper of the tribe, it would have been easy to have 
fled and rejoined his companions, had such a wish 
crossed his mind. But, in addition to the never-ceasing 
anxiety on account of Alice, a fresher, though feebler, 
interest in the fate of Uncas assisted to chain him to 
the spot. He continued, therefore, to stray from hut 
to hut, looking into each only to encounter additional 
disappointments, until he had made the entire circuit 
of the village. Abandoning a species of inquiry that 
proved so fruitless, he retraced his steps to the council 
lodge, resolved to seek and question David, in order to 
put an end to his doubts. 

On reaching the building, which had proved alike the 
seat of judgment and the place of execution, the young 
man found that the excitement had already subsided. 
The warriors had reassembled and were now calmly 
smoking, while they conversed gravely on the chief in¬ 
cidents of their recent expedition to the head of the 
Horican. Though the return of Duncan was likely to 
remind them of his character and the suspicious circum¬ 
stances of his visit, it produced no visible sensation. 


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20 

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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


So far, the terrible scene that had just occurred proved 
favorable to his views, and he required no other prompter 
than his own feelings to convince him of the expedi¬ 
ency of profiting by so unexpected an advantage. 

5 Without seeming to hesitate, he walked into the lodge, 
and took his seat with a gravity that accorded admi¬ 
rably with the deportment of his hosts. A hasty, but 
searching glance sufficed to tell him, that though Uncas 
still remained where he had left'him, David had not re- 
10 appeared. No other restraint was imposed on the former 
than the watchful looks of a young Huron who had 
placed himself at hand ; though an armed warrior leaned 
against the post that formed one side of the narrow 
doorway. In every other respect the captive seemed at 
15 liberty; still, he was excluded from all participation in 
the discourse, and possessed much more of the air of 
some finely moulded statue, than a man having life and 
volition. 

Heyward had too recently witnessed a frightful in- 
20 stance of the prompt punishments of the people, into 
whose hands he had fallen, to hazard an exposure by 
any officious boldness. He would greatly have preferred 
silence and meditation to speech, when a discovery of 
his real condition might prove so instantly fatal. Un- 
25 fortunately for this prudent resolution, his entertainers 
appeared otherwise disposed. He had not long occu¬ 
pied the seat wisely taken a little in the shade, when 
another of the elder warriors, who spoke the French 
language, addressed him : 


TEF LAST OF TEE MOEICANS. 


443 


“ My Canada father does not forget his children,” 
said the chief; “ I thank him. An evil spirit lives in 
the wife of one of my young men. Can the cunning 
stranger frighten him away ? ” 

Heyward possessed some knowledge of the mummery 
practised among the Indians in the cases of such sup¬ 
posed visitations. He saw at a glance that the circum¬ 
stance might possibly be improved to further his own 
ends. It would, therefore, have been difficult, just then, 
to have uttered a proposal that would have given him 
more satisfaction. Aware of the necessity of preserv¬ 
ing the dignity of his imaginary character, however, he 
repressed his feelings, and answered with suitable 
mystery : 

“ Spirits differ; some yield to the power of wisdom, 
while others are too strong.” 

“ My brother is a great medicine,” said the cunning 
savage ; “ he will try ? 99 

A gesture of assent was the answer. The Huron was 
content with the assurance, and, resuming his pipe, he 
awaited the proper moment to move. The impatient 
Heyward, inwardly execrating the cold customs of the 
savages, which required such sacrifices to appearances, 
was fain to assume an air of indifference equal to that 
maintained by the chief, who was, in truth, a near rela¬ 
tive of the afflicted woman. The minutes lingered, and 
the delay had seemed an hour to the adventurer in em¬ 
piricism, when the Huron laid aside his pipe, and drew 
his robe across his breast, as if about to lead the way to 


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10 

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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


the lodge of the invalid. Just then a warrior of power¬ 
ful frame darkened the door, and stalking silently among 
the attentive group, he seated himself on one end of that 
low pile of brush, which sustained Duncan. The latter 
5 cast an impatient look at his neighbor, and felt his flesh 
creep with uncontrollable horror, when he found himself 
in actual contact with Magua. 

The sudden return of this artful and dreaded chief 
caused a delay in the intended departure of the Huron. 
10 Several pipes that had been extinguished were lighted 
again; while the newcomer, without speaking a word, 
drew his tomahawk from his girdle, and filling the bowl 
on its head, began to inhale the vapors of the weed 
through the hollow handle, with as much indifference as 
15 if he had not been absent two weary days on a long and 
toilsome hunt. Ten minutes, which appeared so many 
ages to Duncan, might have passed in this manner; and 
the warriors were fairly enveloped in a cloud of white 
smoke, before any of them spoke. 

20 “ Welcome !” one at length uttered; “has my friend 

found the moose ? ” 

“The young men stagger under their burdens,” re¬ 
turned Magua. “ Let ‘ Reed-that-bends ’ go on the hunt¬ 
ing-path ; he will meet them.” 

25 A deep and awful silence succeeded the utterance of 
the forbidden name. Each pipe dropped from the lips 
of its owner, as though all had inhaled an impurity at 
the same instant. The smoke wreathed above their 
heads in little eddies, and curling in a spiral form, it 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


445 


ascended swiftly through the opening in the roof of the 
lodge, leaving the place beneath clear of its fumes, and 
each dark visage distinctly visible. The eyes of most 
of the warriors were riveted on the earth; though a few 
of the younger and less gifted of the party suffered their 
wild and glaring balls to roll in the direction of a white- 
headed savage, who sat between two of the most ven¬ 
erated chiefs of the tribe. There was nothing in the 
air or attire of this Indian that would seem to entitle 
him to such a distinction. The former was rather 
depressed than remarkable for the bearing of the 
natives; and the latter was such as was commonly 
worn by the ordinary men of the nation. Like most 
around him, for more than a minute, his look, too, was 
on the ground ; but trusting his eyes at length to steal 
a glance aside, he perceived that he was becoming an 
object of general attention. Then he arose and lifted 
his voice in the general silence. 

“ It was a lie,” he said ; “ I had no son. He who was 
called by that name is forgotten; his blood was pale 
and it came not from the veins of a Huron; the wicked 
Chippewas cheated my squaw ! The Great Spirit has 
said that the family of Wiss-en-tush should end; he is 
happy who knows that the evil of his race dies with 
himself. I have done.” 

The father then looked round and about him, as if 
seeking commendation for his stoicism, in the eyes of 
his auditors. But the stern customs of his people had 
made too severe an exaction of the feeble old man. The 


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446 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


expression of his eye contradicted his figurative and 
boastful language, while every muscle in his wrinkled 
visage was working with inward anguish. Standing a 
single minute to enjoy his bitter triumph, he turned 
5 away, as if sickening at the gaze of men, and, veiling 
his face in his blanket, he walked from the lodge, with 
the noiseless step of an Indian, seeking, in the privacy 
of his own abode, the sympathy of one like himself, 
aged, forlorn, and childless. 

10 The Indians, who believe in the hereditary transmis¬ 
sion of virtues and defects in character, suffered him to 
depart in silence. Then, with an elevation of breeding 
that many in a more cultivated state of society might 
profitably emulate, one of the chiefs drew the attention 
15 of the young men from the weakness they had just wit¬ 
nessed, by saying in a cheerful voice, addressing himself 
in courtesy to Magua as the newest comer: 

“ The Delawares have been like bears after the honey- 
pots, prowling around my village. But who has ever 
20 found a Huron asleep ? ” 

The darkness of the impending cloud which precedes 
a burst of thunder was not blacker than the brow of 
Magua, as he exclaimed : 

“ The Delawares of the Lakes ! ” 

25 “Not so. They who wear the petticoats of squaws 
on their own river. One of them has been passing the 
tribe.” 

“ Did my young men take his scalp ? ” 

“ His legs were good, but his arm is better for the hoe 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


447 


than the tomahawk,” returned the other, pointing to the 
immovable form of Uncas. 

Instead of manifesting any womanish curiosity to feast 
his eyes with the sight of a captive from a people he 
was known to have so much reason to hate, Magua con- 5 
tinued to smoke, with the meditative air that he usually 
maintained, when there was no immediate call on his 
cunning or his eloquence. Although secretly amazed at 
the facts communicated by the speech of the aged father, 
he permitted himself to ask no questions, reserving his 10 
inquiries for a more suitable moment. It was only after 
a sufficient interval that he shook the ashes from his 
pipe, replaced the tomahawk, tightened his girdle, and 
&rose, casting, for the first time, a glance in the direction 
of the prisoner, who stood a little behind him. The 15 
wary, though seemingly abstracted, Uncas caught a 
glimpse of the movement, and turning suddenly to the 
light, their looks met. Near a minute these two bold 
and untamed spirits stood regarding one another steadily 
in the eye, neither quailing in the least before the fierce 20 
gaze he encountered. The form of Uncas dilated, and 
his nostrils opened, like those of a tiger at bay; but so 
rigid and unyielding was his posture that he might easily 
have been converted by the imagination into an exqui¬ 
site and faultless representation of the warlike deity of 25 
his tribe. The lineaments of the quivering features of 
Magua proved more ductile ; his countenance gradually 
lost its character of defiance in an expression of fero¬ 
cious joy; and, heaving a breath from the very bottom 


448 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


of his chest, he pronounced aloud the formidable name 
of — 

“ Le Cerf Agile ! ” 

Each warrior sprang upon his feet at the utterance of 
5 the well-known appellation, and there was a short period, 
during which the stoical constancy of the natives was 
completely conquered by surprise. The hated and yet 
respected name was repeated as by one voice carrying 
the sound even beyond the limits of the lodge. The 
10 women and children, who lingered around the entrance, 
took up the words in an echo, which was succeeded by 
another shrill and plaintive howl. The latter was not 
yet ended, when the sensation among the men had en¬ 
tirely abated. Each one in presence seated himself, as 
15 though ashamed of his precipitation, but it was many 
minutes before their meaning eyes ceased to roll towards 
their captive in curious examination of a warrior who 
had so often proved his prowess on the best and proud¬ 
est of their nation. 

20 Uncas enjoyed his victory, but was content with 
merely exhibiting his triumph by a quiet smile, an em¬ 
blem of scorn that belongs to all time and every nation. 
Magua caught the expression, and, raising his arm, he 
shook it at the captive, the light silver ornaments at- 
25 tached to his bracelet rattling with the trembling agita¬ 
tion of the limb, as, in a tone of vengeance, he exclaimed 
in English: 

“ Mohican, you die! ” 

“ The healing waters will never bring the dead Hurons 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


449 


to life!” returned Uncas in the music of the Dela¬ 
wares; “the tumbling river washes their bones; their 
men are squaws; their women owls. Go ! call together 
the Huron dogs, that they may look upon a warrior. My 
nostrils are offended ; they scent the blood of a coward.” 5 

The latter allusion struck deep and the injury rankled. 
Many of the Hurons understood the strange tongue in 
which the captive spoke, among which number was Ma- 
gua. This cunning savage beheld, and instantly profited 
by, his advantage. Dropping the light robe of skin from 10 
his shoulder, he stretched forth his arm, and commenced 
a burst of his dangerous and artful eloquence. However 
much his influence among his people had been impaired 
by his occasional and besetting weakness, as well as by 
his desertion of the tribe, his courage and his fame as an 15 
orator, were undeniable. He never spoke without audi¬ 
tors, and rarely without making converts to his opinions. 
On the present occasion his native powers were stimu¬ 
lated by the keenest thirst for revenge. 

He again recounted the events of the attack on the 20 
island at Glenn’s, the death of his associates, and the 
escape of their most formidable enemies. Then he de¬ 
scribed the nature and position of the mount whither he 
had led such captives as had fallen into their hands. Of 
his own bloody intentions towards the maidens and of 25 
his baffled malice he made no mention, but passed rap¬ 
idly on to the surprise of the party by “ La Longue Cara¬ 
bine,” and its fatal termination. Here he paused and 
looked about him in affected veneration for the departed; 


450 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


but, in truth, to note the effect of his opening narrative. 
As usual, every eye was riveted on his face. Each dusky 
figure seemed a breathing statue, so motionless was the 
posture, so intense the attention of the individual. 

5 Then Magua dropped his voice, which had hitherto 
been clear, strong, and elevated, and touched upon the 
merits of the dead. No quality that was Hkely to com¬ 
mand the sympathy of an Indian escaped his notice. 
One had never been known to follow the chase in vain; 
10 another had been indefatigable on the trail of their 
enemies. This was brave; that, generous. In short, 
he so managed his allusions that in a nation which was 
composed of so few families, he contrived to strike 
every chord that might find, in its turn, some breast 
15 in which to vibrate. 

“ Are the bones of my young men,” he concluded, “ in 
the burial-place of the Hurons ? You know they are 
not. Their spirits are gone towards the setting sun, and 
are already crossing the great waters to the happy hunt- 
20 ing-grounds. But they departed without food, without 
guns or knives, without moccasins, naked and poor as 
they were born. Shall this be ? Are their souls to enter 
the land of the just, like hungry Iroquois or unmanly 
Delawares; or shall they meet their friends with arms 
25 in their hands, and robes on their backs ? What will 
our fathers think the tribes of the Wyandots have be¬ 
come ? They will look on their children with a dark 
eye, and say, ‘ Go ; a Chippewa has come hither with the 
name of a Huron.’ Brothers, we must not forget the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


451 


dead; a redskin never ceases to remember. We will 
load the back of this Mohican until he staggers under 
our bounty, and despatch him after my young men. 
They call to us for aid, though our ears are not open; 
they say, 1 Forget us not.’ When they see the spirit of 5 * 
this Mohican toiling after them with his burden, they 
will know we are of that mind. Then will they go on 
happy; and our children will say, * So did our fathers 
to their friends, so must we do to them.’ What is a 
Yengee ? we have slain many, but the earth is still pale. 10 
A stain on the name of a Huron can only be hid by 
blood that comes from the veins of an Indian. Let this 
Delaware die .’ 7 

The effect of such an harangue, delivered in the 
nervous language, and with the emphatic manner of a 15 
Huron orator, could scarcely be mistaken. Magua had so 
artfully blended the natural sympathies with the reli¬ 
gious superstition of his auditors, that their minds, 
already prepared by custom to sacrifice a victim to the 
manes of their countrymen, lost every vestige of human- 20 
ity in a wish for instant revenge. One warrior in par¬ 
ticular, a man of wild and ferocious mien, had been 
conspicuous for the attention he had given to the words 
of the speaker. His countenance had changed with each 
passing emotion, until it settled into a look of deadly 25 
malice. As Magua ended, he arose, and, uttering the 
yell of a demon, his polished little axe was seen glan¬ 
cing in the torch-light, as he whirled it above his head. 

The motion and the cry were too sudden for words to 


452 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


interrupt his bloody intention. It appeared as if a bright 
gleam shot from his hand, which was crossed at the same 
moment by a dark and powerful line. The former was 
the tomahawk in its passage; the latter the arm that 
* 5 Magua darted forward to divert its aim. The quick and 
ready motion of the chief was not entirely too late. The 
keen weapon cut the war-plume from the scalping-tuft 
of Uncas, and passed through the frail wall of the lodge, 
as though it were hurled from some formidable engine. 
10 Duncan had seen the threatening action, and sprang 
upon his feet, with a heart which, while it leaped into 
his throat, swelled with the most generous resolution in 
behalf of his friend. A glance told him that the blow 
had failed, and terror changed to admiration. Uncas 
15 stood still, looking his enemy in the eye, with features 
that seemed superior to every emotion. Marble could 
not be colder, calmer, or steadier than the countenance 
he put upon this sudden and vindictive attack. Then, as 
if pitying a want of skill, which had proved so fortunate 
20 to himself, he smiled, and muttered a few words of con 
tempt in his own tongue. 

“No!” said Magua, after satisfying himself of the 
safety of the captive ; “ the sun must shine on his shame ; 
the squaws must see his flesh tremble, or our revenge 
25 will be like the play of boys. Go ! take him where there 
is silence; let us see if a Delaware can sleep at night, 
and, in the morning, die.” 

The young men whose duty it was to guard the pris¬ 
oner instantly passed their ligaments of bark across his 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


453 


arms, and led him from the lodge amid a profound and 
ominous silence. It was only as the figure of Uncas 
stood in the opening of the door that his firm step hesi¬ 
tated. There he turned, and, in the sweeping and 
haughty glance that he threw around the circle of his 
enemies, Duncan caught a look, which he was glad to 
construe into an expression that he was not entirely 
deserted by hope. 

Magua was content with his success, or too much 
occupied with his secret purpose to push his inquiries 
any further. Shaking his mantle and folding it on his 
bosom, he also quitted the place, without pursuing a 
subject that might have proved so fatal to the individual 
at his elbow. Notwithstanding his rising resentment, 
his natural firmness, and his anxiety in behalf of Uncas, 
Heyward felt sensibly relieved by the absence of so 
dangerous and so subtle a foe. The excitement pro¬ 
duced by the speech gradually subsided. The warriors 
resumed their seats, and clouds of smoke once more 
filled the lodge. Eor near half an hour not a syllable 
was uttered, or scarcely a look cast aside; a grave and 
meditative silence being in the ordinary succession to 
every scene of violence and commotion, amongst those 
beings, who were alike so impetuous and yet so self- 
restrained. 

When the chief who had solicited the aid of Duncan 
finished his pipe, he made a final and successful move¬ 
ment towards departing. A motion of a finger was the 
intimation he gave the supposed physician to follow; 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


454 JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 

and, passing through the clouds of smoke, Duncan was 
glad, on more accounts than one, to be able at last to 
breathe the pure air of a cool and refreshing summer 
evening. 

5 Instead of pursuing his way among those lodges 
where Heyward had already made his unsuccessful 
search, his companion turned aside and proceeded di¬ 
rectly toward the base of an adjacent mountain, which 
overhung the temporary village. A thicket of brush 
10 skirted its foot, and it became necessary to proceed 
through a crooked and narrow path. The boys had re¬ 
sumed their sports in the clearing, and were enacting a 
mimic chase to the post, among themselves. In order to 
render their games as like the reality as possible, one of 
15 the boldest of their number had conveyed a few brands 
into some piles of tree-tops that had hitherto escaped 
the burning. The blaze of one of these fires lighted the 
way of the chief and Duncan, and gave a character of 
additional wildness to the rude scenery. At a little dis- 
20 tance from a bald rock, and directly in its front, they 
entered a grassy opening, which they prepared to cross. 
Just then fresh fuel was added to the fire, and a power¬ 
ful light penetrated even to that distant spot. It fell 
upon the white surface of the mountain, and was re- 
25 fleeted downward upon a dark and mysterious looking 
being, that arose unexpectedly in their path. 

The Indian paused, as if doubtful whether to proceed, 
and permitted his companion to approach his side. A 
large black ball, which at first seemed stationary, now 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


455 


began to move in a manner, that to the latter was inex¬ 
plicable. Again the fire brightened, and its glare fell 
more distinctly on the object. Then even Duncan knew 
it, by its restless and sidling attitudes, which kept the 
upper part of its form in constant motion, while the 
animal itself appeared seated, to be a bear. Though it 
growled loudly and fiercely, and there were instants when 
its glistening eye-balls might be seen, it gave no other 
indication of hostility. The Huron, at least, seemed 
assured that the intentions of this singular intruder 
were peaceable, for after giving it an attentive exami¬ 
nation, he quietly pursued his course. 

Duncan, who knew that the animal was often domes¬ 
ticated among the Indians, followed the example of his 
companion, believing that some favorite of the tribe had 
found its way into the thicket in search of food. They 
passed it unmolested. Though obliged to come nearly 
in contact with the monster, the Huron, who had at first 
so warily determined the character of his strange visitor, 
was now content with proceeding without wasting a mo¬ 
ment in further examination; but Heyward was unable 
to prevent his eyes from looking backward, in salutary 
watchfulness against attacks in the rear. His uneasi¬ 
ness was in no degree diminished, when he perceived 
the beast rolling along their path and following their 
footsteps. He would have spoken, but the Indian at 
that moment shoved aside a door of bark, and entered a 
cavern in the bosom of the mountain. 

Profiting by so easy a method of retreat, Duncan 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


456 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


stepped after him, and was gladly closing the slight 
cover to the opening, when he felt it drawn from his 
hand by the beast, whose shaggy form immediately 
darkened the passage. They were now in a straight 
5 and long gallery in a chasm of the rocks, where retreat 
without encountering the animal was impossible. Mak¬ 
ing the best of the circumstances, the young man pressed 
forward, keeping as close as possible to his conductor. 
The bear growled frequently at his heels, and once or 
10 twice its enormous paws were laid on his person, as 
though disposed to prevent his further passage into the 
den. 

How long the nerves of Heyward would have sus¬ 
tained him in this extraordinary situation it might be 
15 difficult to decide; for, happily, he soon found relief. 
A glimmer of light had constantly been in their front, 
and they now arrived at the place whence it proceeded. 

A large cavity in the rock had been rudely fitted to 
answer the purposes of many apartments. The subdi- 
20 visions were simple, but ingenious; being composed of 
stone, sticks, and bark, intermingled. Openings above 
admitted the light by day, and at night fires and torches 
supplied the place of the sun. Hither the Hurons had 
brought most of their valuables, especially those which 
25 more particularly pertained to the nation; and hither, 
as it now appeared, the sick woman, who was believed 
to be the victim of supernatural power, had been trans¬ 
ported also, under an impression that her tormentor 
would find more difficulty in making his assaults through 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


457 


walls of stone than through the leafy coverings of the 
lodges. The apartment into which Duncan and his 
guide first entered had been exclusively devoted to 
her accommodation. The latter approached her bed¬ 
side, which was surrounded by females, in the centre of 5 
whom Heyward was surprised to find his missing friend 
David. 

A single look was sufficient to apprise the pretended 
leech that the invalid was far beyond his powers of 
healing. She lay in a sort of paralysis, indifferent to 10 
the objects which crowded before her sight and happily 
unconscious of suffering. Heyward was far from re¬ 
gretting that his mummeries were to be performed on 
one who was much too ill to take an interest in their 
failure or success. The slight qualm of conscience which 15 
had been excited by the intended deception was instantly 
appeased at the sight, and he began to collect his thoughts, 
in order to enact his part with suitable spirit, when he 
found he was about to be anticipated in his skill by an 
attempt to prove the power of music. 20 

Gamut, who had stood prepared to pour forth his 
spirit in song when the visitors entered, after delaying 
a moment, drew a strain from his pipe, and commenced 
a hymn that might have worked a miracle, had faith in 
its efficacy been of much avail. He was allowed to pro- 25 
ceed to the close, the Indians respecting his imaginary 
infirmity, and Duncan too glad of the delay to hazard 
the slightest interruption. As the dying cadence of his 
strains was falling on the ears of the latter, he started 


458 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


aside at hearing them repeated behind him, in a voice 
half human and half sepulchral. Looking around, he 
beheld the shaggy monster seated on end, in a shadow 
of the cavern, where, while his restless body swung in 
5 the uneasy manner of the animal, it repeated, in a sort 
of low growl, sounds, if not words, which bore some 
slight resemblance to the melody of the singer. 

The effect of so strange an echo on David may better 
be imagined than described. His eyes opened, as if he 
10 doubted their truth; and his voice became instantly 
mute in excess of wonder. A deep-laid scheme of com¬ 
municating some important intelligence to Heyward was 
driven from his recollection by an emotion which very 
nearly resembled fear, but which he was fain to believe 
15 was admiration. Under its influence, he exclaimed aloud 
— “ She expects you and is at hand ” — and precipi 
tately left the cavern. 


THE LAST GF THE MOHICANS. 


459 


CHAPTER XXV. 

Snug. Have you the lion’s part written ? Pray you, if it he, give 
it me, for I am slow of study. 

Quince. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing hut roaring. 

Shakspeare, A Midsummer-Night’s Dream. 

There was a strange blending of the ridiculous with 
that which was solemn in this scene. The beast still con¬ 
tinued its rolling and apparently untiring, movements, 
though its ludicrous attempt to imitate the melody of 
David ceased the instant the latter abandoned the field. 5 
The words of Gamut were, as has been seen, in his na¬ 
tive tongue; and to Duncan they seemed pregnant with 
some hidden meaning, though nothing present assisted 
him in discovering the object of their allusion. A speedy 
end was, however, put to every conjecture on the subject 10 
by the manner of the chief, who advanced to the bedside 
of the invalid, and beckoned away the whole group of 
female attendants that had clustered there, to witness 
the skill of the stranger. He was implicitly, though 
reluctantly, obeyed; and when the low echo which rang 15 
along the hollow natural gallery from the distant clos¬ 
ing door had ceased, pointing towards his insensible 
daughter, he said : 

“ How let my brother show his power.” 


460 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


Thus unequivocally called on to exercise the functions 
of his assumed character, Heyward was apprehensive 
that the smallest delay might prove dangerous. Endeav¬ 
oring then to collect his ideas, he prepared to collect 
5 that species of incantation and those uncouth rites, under 
which the Indian conjurers are accustomed to conceal 
their actual ignorance and impotency. It is more than 
probable that in the disordered state of his thoughts 
he would soon have fallen into some suspicious, if not 
10 fatal error, had not his incipient attempts been inter¬ 
rupted by a fierce growl from the quadruped. Three 
several times did he renew his efforts to proceed, and as 
often was he met by the same unaccountable opposition, 
each interruption seeming more savage and threatening 
15 than the preceding. 

“ The cunning ones are jealous,” said the Huron ; “ I 
go. Brother, the woman is the wife of one of my bra¬ 
vest young men ; deal justly by her. Peace,” he added, 
beckoning to the discontented beast to be quiet; “ I 
20 go.” 

The chief was as good as his word, and Duncan now 
found himself alone in that wild and desolate abode 
with the helpless invalid and the fierce and dangerous 
brute. The latter listened to the movements of the 
25 Indian with that air of sagacity that a bear is known 
to possess, until another echo announced that he had also 
left the cavern, when it turned and came waddling up to 
Duncan, before whom it seated itself in its natural atti¬ 
tude, erect like a man. The youth looked anxiously 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


461 


about him for some weapon with which he might make a 
resistance worthy of his reputation against the attack he 
now seriously expected. 

It seemed, however, as if the humor of the animal had 
suddenly changed. Instead of continuing its discon¬ 
tented growls or manifesting any further signs of anger, 
the whole of its shaggy body shook violently, as if it 
were agitated by some strange internal convulsion. The 
huge and unwieldy talons pawed stupidly about the grin¬ 
ning muzzle, and while Heyward kept his eyes riveted on 
its movements with jealous watchfulness, the grim head 
fell on one side, and in its place appeared the honest 
sturdy countenance of the scout, who was indulging, 
from the bottom of his soul, in his own peculiar expres¬ 
sion of merriment. 

“ Hist! ” said the wary woodsman, interrupting Hey¬ 
ward’s exclamation of surprise; “ the varlets are about 
the place, and any sounds that are not natural to witch' 
craft would bring them back upon us in a body.” 

“Tell me the meaning of this masquerade; and why 
you have attempted so desperate an adventure.” 

“ Ah! reason and calculation are often outdone by 
accident,” returned the scout. “ But as a story should 
always commence at the beginning, I will tell you the 
whole in order. After we parted, I placed the Com¬ 
mandant and the Sagamore in an old beaver lodge, 
where they are safer from the Hurons than they would 
be in the garrison of Edward; for your high northwest 
Indians, not having as yet got the traders among them, 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


462 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


continue to venerate the beaver. After which, Uncas 
and I pushed for the other encampment, as was agreed; 
have you seen the lad ? ” 

“ To my great grief! he is captive, and condemned to 
5 die at the rising of the sun.” 

“ T had misgivings that such would be his fate,” 
resumed the scout in a less confident and joyous tone. 
But soon regaining his naturally firm voice, he contin¬ 
ued : “ His bad fortune is the true reason of my being 

10 here, for it would never do to abandon such a boy to the 
Hurons. A rare time the knaves would have of it, could 
they tie ‘ The Bounding Elk 9 and ‘ The Longue Cara¬ 
bine/ as they call me, to the same stake ! Though why 
they have given me such a name I never knew, there 
15 being as little likeness between the gifts of ( Kill-deer 9 
and the performance of one of your real Canada cara- 
bynes, as there is between the natur’ of a pipe-stone 
and a flint! ” 

“Keep to your tale,” said the impatient Heyward; 
20 “ we know not at what moment the Hurons may return.” 

“No fear of them. A conjurer must have his time, 
like a straggling priest in the settlements. We are as 
safe from interruption as a missionary would be at the 
beginningof a two hours’ discourse. Well, Uncas and I 
25 fell in with a return party of the varlets ; the lad was 
much too forward for a scout; nay, for that matter, being 
of hot blood, he was not so much to blame; and, after 
all, one of the Hurons proved a coward, and in fleeing, 
led him into an ambushment.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


463 


<( And dearly has he paid for the weakness ! ” 

The scout significantly passed his hand across his own 
throat and nodded, as if he said, u I comprehend your 
meaning.” After which, he continued, in a more audi¬ 
ble, though scarcely more intelligible language : 5 

“ After the loss of the boy, I turned upon the Hurons, 
as you may judge. There have been scrimmages atween 
one or two of their outlyers and myself; but that is 
neither here nor there. So, after I had shot the imps, 

I got in pretty nigh to the lodges without further com-10 
motion. Then, what should luck do in my favor but 
lead me to the very spot where one of the most famous 
conjurers of the tribe was dressing himself, as I well 
knew, for some great battle with Satan — though why 
should I call that luck, which it now seems was an 15 
especial ordering of Providence. So a judgmatical rap 
over the head stiffened the lying impostor for a time, 
and leaving him a bit of walnut for his supper, to pre¬ 
vent an uproar, and stringing him up atween two sap- 
' lings, I made free with his finery, and took the part of 20 
a bear on myself, in order that the operations might 
proceed.” 

“ And admirably did you enact the character; the ani¬ 
mal itself might have been shamed by the representa¬ 
tion.” 25 

“ Lord, major,” returned the flattered woodsman, “I 
should be but a poor scholar for one who has studied so 
long in the wilderness, did I not know how to set forth 
the movements and natur’ of such a beast. Had it been 


464 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


now a catamount or even a full-sized painter, I would 
have embellished a performance for you worth regard¬ 
ing. But it is no such marvellous feat to exhibit the 
feats of so dull a beast; though, for that matter too, a 
5 bear may be over acted. Yes, yes; it is not every imi¬ 
tator that knows natur’ may be outdone easier than she 
is equalled. But all our work is yet before us. Where 
is the gentle one ? ” 

“ Heaven knows. I have examined every lodge in the 
10 village, without discovering the slightest trace of her 
presence in the tribe.” 

“ You heard what the singer said, as he left us : ‘ She 
is at hand and expects you ’ ? ” 

“ I have been compelled to believe he alluded to this 
15 unhappy woman.” 

“The simpleton was frightened, and blundered through 
his message, but he had a deeper meaning. Here are 
walls enough to separate the whole settlement. A bear 
ought to climb; therefore will I take a look above them. 
20 There may be honey-pots hid in these rocks, and I am a 
beast, you know, that has a hankering for the sweets.” 

The scout looked behind him, laughing at his own 
conceit, while he clambered up the partition, imitating, 
as he went, the clumsy motions of the beast he rcpre- 
25 sented; but the instant the summit was gained, he made 
a gesture of silence and slid down with the utmost 
precipitation. 

“ She is here,” he whispered, “ and by that door you 
will find her. I would have spoken a word of comfort 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


465 


to the afflicted soul, but the sight of such a monster 
might upset her reason. Though for that matter, major, 
you are none of the most inviting yourself, in your paint.” 

Duncan, who had already sprung eagerly forward, 
drew instantly back on hearing these discouraging 
words. 

“ Am I then so very revolting ? ” he demanded, with 
an air of chagrin. 

“ You might not startle a wolf, or turn the Royal 
Americans from a charge ; but I have seen the time 
when you had a better-favored look, major,” returned 
the scout, dryly ; “ your streaked countenances are not 
ill judged of by the squaws, but young women of white 
blood give the preference to their own color. See,” he 
added, pointing to a place where the water trickled from 
a rock, forming a little crystal spring, before it found an 
issue through the adjacent crevices ; “ you may easily 
get rid of the Sagamore’s daub, and when you come 
back, I will try my hand at a new embellishment. It’s 
as common for a conjurer to alter his paint as for a buck 
in the settlements to change his finery.” 

The deliberate woodsman had little occasion to hunt 
for arguments to enforce his advice. He was yet speak¬ 
ing, when Duncan availed himself of the water. In a 
moment, every frightful or offensive mark was obliter¬ 
ated, and the youth appeared again in the lineaments 
with which he had been gifted by nature. Thus pre¬ 
pared for an interview with his mistress, he took a hasty 
leave of his companion, and disappeared through the in- 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


466 


JAMES FENIM ORE COOPER. 


dicated passage. The scout witnessed his departure 
with complacency, nodding his head after him and mut¬ 
tering his good wishes ; after which he very coolly set 
about an examination of the state of the larder among 
5 the Hurons — the cavern, among other purposes, being 
used as a receptacle for the fruits of their hunts. 

Duncan had no other guide than a distant glimmering 
light, which served, however, the office of a polar star 
to the lover. By its aid he was enabled to enter the 
10 haven of his hopes, which was merely another apart¬ 
ment of the cavern, that had been solely appropriated 
to the safe keeping of so important a prisoner, as a 
daughter of the commandant of William Henry. It 
was profusely strewed with the plunder of that unlucky 
15 fortress. In the midst of this confusion he found the 
maiden, pale, anxious, and terrified, but lovely. David 
had prepared her for such a visit. 

“ Duncan ! ” she exclaimed, in a voice that seemed to 
tremble at the sounds created by itself. 

20 “ Alice! ” he answered, leaping carelessly among 

trunks, boxes, arms, and furniture, until he stood at 
her side. 

“ I knew that you would never desert me,” she said, 
looking up with a momentary glow on her otherwise 
25 dejected countenance. “ But you are alone ! grateful as 
it is to be thus remembered, I could wish to think you 
are not entirely alone.” 

Duncan, observing that she trembled in a manner 
which betrayed her inability to continue standing, gently 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


467 


induced her to be seated, while he recounted those lead¬ 
ing incidents which it has been our task to record. 
Alice listened with breathless interest; and though the 
young man touched lightly on the sorrows of the stricken 
father, taking care, however, not to wound the self-love 5 
of his auditor, the tears ran as freely down the cheeks 
of the daughter as though she had never wept before. 
The soothing tenderness of Duncan, however, soon 
quieted the first burst of her emotions, and she then 
heard him to the close with undivided attention, if not 10 
with composure. 

“ And now, Alice,” he added, “ you will see how much 
is still expected of you. By the assistance of our expe¬ 
rienced and invaluable friend, the scout, we may find 
our way from this savage people, but you will have to 15 
exert your utmost fortitude. Remember that you fly to 
the arms of your venerable parent and how much his 
happiness, as well as our own, depends on those exer¬ 
tions.” 

“ Can I do otherwise for a father who has done so 20 
much for me ? ” 

“ And for me, too,” continued the youth, gently press¬ 
ing the hand he held in both his own. 

The look of innocence and surprise which he received 
in return convinced Duncan of the necessity of being 25 
more explicit. 

“ This is neither the place nor the occasion to detain 
you with selfish wishes,” he added; “ but what heart 
loaded like mine would not wish to cast its burden ? 


468 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


They say misery is the closest of all ties; our common 
suffering in your behalf left but little to be explained 
between your father and myself.” 

“ And dearest Cora, Duncan ; surely Cora was not for- 
5 gotten ? ” 

“Not forgotten ! no; regretted as woman was seldom 
mourned before. Your venerable father knew no differ¬ 
ence between his children ; but I — Alice, you will not 
be offended, when I say that to me her worth was in a 
10 degree obscured — ” 

“ Then you knew not the merit of my sister,” said 
Alice, withdrawing her hand ; “ of you she ever speaks 
as of one who is her dearest friend.” 

“I would gladly believe her such,” returned Duncan, 
15 hastily; “ I could wish her to be even more ; but with 
you, Alice, I have the permission of your father to aspire 
to a still nearer and dearer tie.” 

Alice trembled violently, and there was an instant 
during which she bent her face aside, yielding to the 
20 emotions common to her sex; but they quickly passed 
away, leaving her mistress of her deportment, if not of 
her affections. 

“ Heyward,” she said, looking him full in the face, 
with a touching expression of innocence and dependency, 
25 “give me the sacred presence and the holy sanction of 
that parent before you urge me farther.” 

“ Though more I should not, less I could not say,” the 
youth was about to answer, when he was interrupted by 
a light tap on his shoulder. Starting to his feet, he 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


469 


turned, and, confronting the intruder, his looks fell on 
the dark form and malignant visage of Magua. The 
deep guttural laugh of the savage sounded at such a 
moment, to Duncan, like the hellish taunt of a demon. 
Had he pursued the sudden and fierce impulse of the in- 5 
stant, he would have cast himself on the Huron, and com¬ 
mitted their fortunes to the issue of a deadly struggle. 
But, without arms of any description, ignorant of what 
succor his subtle enemy could command, and charged 
with the safety of one who was just then dearer than 10 
ever to his heart, he no sooner entertained, than he aban¬ 
doned the desperate intention. 

“ What is your purpose ? ” said Alice, meekly folding 
her arms on her bosom, and struggling to conceal an 
agony of apprehension in behalf of Heyward, in the 15 
usual cold and distant manner with which she received 
the visits of her captor. 

The exulting Indian had resumed his austere counte¬ 
nance, though he drew warily back before the menacing 
glance of the young man’s fiery eye. He regarded both 20 
his captives for a moment with a steady look, and then 
stepping aside, he dropped a log of wood across a door 
different from that by which Duncan had entered. 
The latter now comprehended the manner of his sur¬ 
prise, and believing himself irretrievably lost, he drew 25 
Alice to his bosom and stood prepared to meet a fate 
which he hardly regretted, since it was to be suffered 
in such company. But Magua meditated no immediate 
violence. His first measures were very evidently taken 


470 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


to secure his new captive; nor did he even bestow a 
second glance at the motionless forms in the centre of 
the cavern, until he had completely cut off every hope of 
retreat through the private outlet he had himself used. 
5 He was watched in all his movements by Heyward, who, 
however, remained firm, still folding the fragile form of 
Alice to his heart, at once too proud and too hopeless to 
ask favor of an enemy so often foiled. When Magua 
had effected his object, he approached his prisoners, and 
10 said in English: 

“ The pale faces trap the cunning beavers; but the 
redskins know how to take the Yengeese.” 

“ Huron, do your worst! ” exclaimed the excited Hey¬ 
ward, forgetful that a double stake was involved in his 
15 life; “ you and your vengeance are alike despised.” 

“ Will the white man speak these words at the 
stake ? ” asked Magua; manifesting, at the same time, 
how little faith he had in the other’s resolution, by the 
sneer that accompanied his words. 

20 “ Here; singly to your face, or in the presence of 

your assembled nation.” 

“ Le Renard Subtil is a great chief ! ” returned the 
Indian; “he will go and bring his young men to see 
how bravely a pale face can laugh at the tortures.” 

25 He turned away while speaking, and was about to 
leave the place through the avenue by which Duncan 
had approached, when a growl caught his ear, and 
caused him to hesitate. The figure of the bear appeared 
in the door, where it sat rolling from side to side in its 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


471 


customary restlessness. Magua, like the father of the 
sick woman, eyed it keenly for a moment, as if to ascer¬ 
tain its character. He was far above the more vulgar 
superstitions of his tribe, and so soon as he recognized 
the well-known attire of the conjurer, he prepared to 5 
pass it in cool contempt. But a louder and more threat¬ 
ening growl caused him again to pause. Then he 
seemed as if suddenly resolved to trifle no longer, and 
moved resolutely forward. The mimig animal, which 
had advanced a little, retired slowly in his front, until 10 
it arrived again at the pass, when rearing on its hinder 
legs, it beat the air with its paws in the manner prac¬ 
tised by its brutal prototype. 

“ Fool! ” exclaimed the chief, in Huron, u go play 
with the children and squaws; leave men to their 15 
wisdom.” 

He once more endeavored to pass the supposed em- 
pyric, scorning even the parade of threatening to use the 
knife or tomahawk, that was pendent from his belt. 
Suddenly the beast extended its arms, or rather legs, 20 
and enclosed him in a grasp that might have vied with 
the far-famed power of the “ bear’s hug ” itself. Hey¬ 
ward had watched the whole procedure on the part of 
Hawkeye, with breathless interest. At first he relin¬ 
quished his hold of Alice ; then he caught up a thong of 23 
buckskin, which had been used around some bundle, and 
when he beheld his enemy with his two arms pinned 
to his side by the iron muscles of the scout, he rushed 
upon him and effectually secured them there. Arms, 


472 


JAMES FEN IM ORE COOPER . 


legs, and feet were encircled in twenty folds of the thong 
in less time than we have taken to record the circum¬ 
stance. When the formidable Huron was completely 
pinioned, the scout released his hold, and Duncan laid 
5 his enemy on his back utterly helpless. 

Throughout the whole of this sudden and extraordi¬ 
nary operation, Magua, though he had struggled violently, 
until assured he was in the hands of one whose nerves 
were far better strung than his own, had not uttered the 
10 slightest exclamation. But when Hawkeye, by way of 
making a summary explanation of his conduct, removed 
the shaggy jaws of the beast, and exposed his own rugged 
and earnest countenance to the gaze of the Huron, the 
philosophy of the latter was so far mastered as to per- 
15 mit him to utter the never-failing: 

“ Hugh ! ” 

" Ay ! you’ve found your tongue,” said his undisturbed 
conqueror; “ now, in order that you shall not use it to 
our ruin, I must make free to stop your mouth.” 

20 As there was no time to be lost, the scout immediately 
set about effecting so necessary a precaution; and when 
he had gagged the Indian, his enemy might safely have 
been considered as “ hors de combat .” 

“ By what place did the imp enter ? ” asked the indus- 
25 trious scout, when his work was ended. “Not a soul 
has passed my way since you left me.” 

Duncan pointed out the door by which Magua had 
come, and which now presented too many obstacles to a 
quick retreat. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


473 


“ Bring on the gentle one then,” continued his friend; 
u we must make a push for the woods by the other out¬ 
let.” 

“ ’Tis impossible ! ” said Duncan; “ fear has overcome 
her and she is helpless. Alice ! my sweet, my own Alice, 
arouse yourself; now is the moment to fly. ’Tis in vain ! 
she hears, but is unable to follow. Go, noble and worthy 
friend; save yourself and leave me to my fate ! ” 

“ Every trail has its end, and every calamity brings 
its lesson,” returned the scout. “ There, wrap her in 
them Indian cloths. Conceal all of her little form. Nay, 
that foot has no fellow in the wilderness; it will betray 
her. All, every part. Now take her in your arms, and 
follow. Leave the rest to me.” 

Duncan, as may be gathered from the words of his 
companion, was eagerly obeying; and, as the other fin¬ 
ished speaking, he took the light person of Alice in his 
arms and followed on the footsteps of the scout. They 
found the sick woman as they had left her, still alone, 
and passed swiftly on by the natural gallery, to the 
place of entrance. As they approached the little door 
of bark, a murmur of voices without announced that the 
friends and relatives of the invalid were gathered about 
the place, patiently awaiting a summons to re-enter. 

“If I open my lips to speak,” Hawkeye whispered, 
“ my English, which is the genuine tongue of a white- 
skin, will tell the varlets that an enemy is among them. 
You must give ’em your jargon, major ; and say, that 
we have shut the evil spirit in the cave, and are taking 


5 

10 

# 

15 

20 

25 


474 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


the woman to the woods in order to find strengthening 
roots. Practise all your cunning, for it is a lawful 
undertaking.” 

The door opened a little, as if one without was listen- 
5 ing to the proceedings within, and compelled tha scout 
to cease his directions. A fierce growl repelled the eaves¬ 
dropper, and then the scout boldly threw open the cov¬ 
ering of bark and left the place, enacting the character 
of the bear as he proceeded. Duncan kept close at his 
10 heels, and soon found himself in the centre of a cluster 
of twenty anxious relatives and friends. 

The crowd fell back a little, and permitted the father, 
and one who appeared to be the husband of the woman, 
to approach. 

15 “ Has my brother driven away the evil spirit ? ” de¬ 

manded the former. “ What has he in his arms ? ” 

“ Thy child,” returned Duncan, gravely; “ the disease 
has gone out of her; it is shut up in the rocks. I take 
the woman to a distance, where I will strengthen her 
20 against any further attacks. She shall be in the wig¬ 
wam of the young man when the sun comes again.” 

When the father had translated the meaning of the 
stranger’s words into the Huron language, a suppressed 
murmur announced the satisfaction with which this 
25 intelligence was received. The chief himself waved 
his hand for Duncan to proceed, saying aloud, in a firm 
voice, and with a lofty manner: 

“ Go; I am a man, and I will enter the rock and fight 
the wicked one.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


475 


Heyward had gladly obeyed, and was already past the 
little group, when these startling words arrested him. 

“ Is my brother mad ? ” he exclaimed ; “ is he cruel ? 
He will meet the disease, and it will enter him; or he 
will drive out the disease, and it will chase his daughter 5 
into the woods. No; let my children wait without, and 
if the spirit appears, beat him down with clubs. He is 
cunning, and will bury himself in the mountain, when he 
sees how many are ready to fight him.” 

This singular warning had the desired effect. Instead 10 
of entering the cavern, the father and husband drew 
their tomahawks, and posted themselves in readiness 
to deal their vengeance on the imaginary tormentor of 
their sick relative, while the women and children broke 
branches from the bushes or seized fragments of the 15 
rock, with a similar intention. At this favorable 
moment the counterfeit conjurers disappeared. 

Hawkeye, at the same time that he had presumed so 
far on the nature of the Indian superstitions, was not 
ignorant that they were rather tolerated than relied on 20 
by the wisest of the chiefs. He well knew the value of 
time in the present emergency. Whatever might be the 
extent of the self-delusion of his enemies, and however 
it had tended to assist his schemes, the slightest cause 
of suspicion, acting on the subtle nature of an Indian, 25 
would be likely to prove fatal. Taking the path, there¬ 
fore, that was most likely to avoid observation, he rather 
skirted than entered the village. The warriors were 
still to be seen in the distance, by the fading light of 


476 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


the fires, stalking from lodge to lodge. But the children 
had abandoned their sports for their beds of skins, and 
the quiet of night was already beginning to prevail over 
the turbulence and excitement of so busy and important 
5 an evening. 

Alice revived under the renovating influence of the 
open air, and as her physical rather than her mental 
powers had been the subject of weakness, she stood in 
no need of any explanation of that which had occurred. 
10 “ Now let me make an effort to walk,” she said, when 

they had entered the forest, blushing, though unseen, 
that she had not been sooner able to quit the arms of 
Duncan; “I am, indeed, restored.” 

“ Nay, Alice, you are yet too weak.” 

15 The maiden struggled gently to release herself, and 
the reluctant Heyward was compelled to part with his 
precious burden. The representative of the bear had 
certainly been an entire stranger to the delicious emo¬ 
tions of the lover, while his arms encircled his mistress, 
20 and he was, perhaps, a stranger also to the nature of 
that feeling of ingenuous shame that oppressed the 
trembling Alice. But when he found himself at a suit¬ 
able distance from the lodges, he made a halt, and spoke 
on a subject of which he was thoroughly the master. 

25 “ This path will lead you to the brook,” he said ; “ fol¬ 

low its northern bank until you come to a fall; mount 
the hill on your right, and you will see the fires of the 
other people. There you must go, and demand protec¬ 
tion ; if they are true Delawares, you will be safe. A 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


477 


distant flight with that gentle one, just now, is impos¬ 
sible. The Hurons would follow up our trail, and mas¬ 
ter our scalps, before we had got a dozen miles. Go, 
and Providence be with you.” 

“ And you ?” demanded Heyward, in surprise; “surely e 
we part not here ? ” 

“ The Hurons hold the pride of the Delawares; the 
last of the high blood of the Mohicans is in their power,” 
returned the scout; “I go to see what can be done in 
his favor. Had they mastered your scalp, major, a 10 
knave should have fallen for every hair it held, as I 
promised; but if the young Sagamore is to be led to the 
stake, the Indians shall see also how a man without a 
cross can die.” 

Not in the least offended with the decided preference 15 
that the sturdy woodsman gave to one who might, in 
some degree, be called the child of his adoption, Duncan 
still continued to urge such reasons against so desperate 
an effort, as presented themselves. He was aided by 
Alice, who mingled her entreaties with those of Heyward 20 
that he would abandon a resolution that promised so 
much danger with such little hopes of success. Their 
eloquence and ingenuity were expended in vain. The 
scout heard them attentively but impatiently, and finally 
closed the discussion by answering in a tone that in- 25 
stantly silenced Alice, while it told Heyward how fruit¬ 
less any further remonstrances would be : 

“I have heard,” he said, “that there is a feeling in 
youth, which binds man to woman, closer than the father 


4T8 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


is tied to the son. It may be so. I have seldom been 
where women of my color dwell; but such may be the 
gifts of natur’ in the settlements. You have risked life, 
and all that is dear to you to bring off this gentle one, and 
5 I suppose that some such disposition is at the bottom of 
it all. As for me, I taught the lad the real character of 
a rifle; and well has he paid me for it. I have fou’t at 
his side in many a bloody skrimmage; and so long as I 
could hear the crack of his piece in one ear and that of 
10 the Sagamore in the other, I knew no enemy was on my 
back. Winters and summers, nights and days, have we 
roved the wilderness in company, eating of the same 
dish, one sleeping while the other watched ; and afore it 
shall be said that Uncas was taken to the torment and 
15 I at hand — There is but a single Euler of us all, 
whatever may be the color of the skin ; and him I call 
to witness — that before the Mohican boy shall perish 
for the want of a friend, good faith shall depart the 
’arth, and 1 Kill-deer ’ become as harmless as the tooting 
20 we’pon of the singer ! ” 

Duncan released his hold on the arm of the scout, 
who turned and steadily retraced his steps towards the 
lodges. After pausing a moment to gaze at his retiring 
form, the successful and yet sorrowful Heyward and 
25 Alice took their way together towards the distant vil¬ 
lage of the Delawares. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


479 


CHAPTER XXYI. 

Bot. Let me play the lion too. 

Shakspeare, A Midsummer-Night’s Dream. 

Notwithstanding the high resolution of Hawkey e, 
he fully comprehended all the difficulties and dangers 
he was about to incur. In his return to the camp, his 
acute and practised intellects were intently engaged in 
devising means to counteract a watchfulness and suspi¬ 
cion on the part of his enemies, that he knew were in no 
degree inferior to his own. Nothing but the color of his 
skin saved the lives of Magua and the conjurer, who 
would have been the first victims to his security, had 
not the scout believed such an act, however congenial it 
might be to the nature of an Indian, utterly unworthy 
of one who boasted a descent from men that knew no 
cross of blood. Accordingly, he trusted to the withes 
and ligaments with which he had bound his captives, 
and pursued his way directly towards the centre of the 
lodges. 

As he approached the buildings, his steps became 
more deliberate, and his vigilant eye suffered no sign, 
whether friendly or hostile, to escape him. A neglected 
hut was a little in advance of the others, and appeared 


5 

10 

15 

20 


480 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


as if it had been deserted when half completed — most 
probably on account of failing in some of the more im¬ 
portant requisites, such as of wood or water. A faint 
light glimmered through its cracks, however, and an- 
5 nounced that, notwithstanding its imperfect structure, it 
was not now without a tenant. Thither, then, the scout 
proceeded, like a prudent general who was about to feel 
the advanced positions of his enemy before he hazarded 
his main attack. 

10 Throwing himself into a suitable posture for the beast 
he represented, Hawkeye crawled to a little opening, 
where he might command a view of the interior. It 
proved to be the abiding-place of David Gamut. Hither 
the faithful singing-master had now brought himself, 
15 together with all his sorrows, his apprehensions, and 
his meek dependence on the protection of Providence. 
At the precise moment when his ungainly person came 
under the observation of the scout, in the manner just 
mentioned, the woodsman himself, though in his assumed 
20 character, was the subject of the solitary being’s pro- 
foundest reflections. 

However implicit the faith of David was in the per¬ 
formance of ancient miracles, he eschewed the belief of 
any direct supernatural agency in the management of 
25 modern morality. In other words, while he had im¬ 
plicit faith in the ability of Balaam’s ass to speak, he 
was somewhat sceptical on the subject of a bear’s sing¬ 
ing ; and yet he had been assured of the latter on the 
testimony of his own exquisite organs. There was some- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


481 


thing in his air and manner that betrayed to the scout 
the utter confusion of the state of his mind. He was 
seated on a pile of brush, a few twigs from which occa¬ 
sionally fed his low fire, with his head leaning on his 
arm, in a posture of melancholy musing. The costume 
of the votary of music had undergone no other alteration 
from that so lately described, except that he had covered 
his bald head with the triangular beaver, which had not 
proved sufficiently alluring to excite the cupidity of any 
of his captors. 

The ingenious Hawkeye, who recalled the hasty man¬ 
ner in which the other had abandoned his post at the 
bedside of the sick woman, was not without his sus¬ 
picions concerning the subject of so much solemn de¬ 
liberation. First making the circuit of the hut, and 
ascertaining that it stood quite alone, and that the 
character of its inmate was likely to protect it from 
visitors, he ventured through its low door, into the very 
presence of Gamut. The position of the latter brought 
the fire between them ; and when Hawkeye had seated 
himself on end, near a minute elapsed, during which the 
two remained regarding each other without speaking. 
The suddenness and the nature of the surprise had 
nearly proved too much for — we will not say the phi¬ 
losophy, but for the faith and resolution of David. He 
fumbled for his pitch-pipe, and arose with a confused 
intention of attempting a musical exorcism. 

“ Dark and mysterious monster! ” he exclaimed, 
while with trembling hands he disposed of his auxib 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


482 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


iary eyes, and sought his never-failing resource in trouble, 
the gifted version of the Psalms; “ I know not your 
nature nor intents; but if aught you meditate against 
the person and rights of one of the humblest servants 
5 of the temple, listen to the inspired language of the 
youth of Israel, and repent.” 

The bear shook his shaggy sides, and then a well- 
known voice replied : 

“ Put up the tooting we’pon, and teach your throat 
10 modesty. Pive words of plain and comprehendible Eng¬ 
lish are worth, just now, an hour of squalling.” 

“ What art thou ? ” demanded David, utterly disqual¬ 
ified to pursue his original intention and nearly gasping 
for breath. 

15 “A man like yourself; and one whose blood is as 
little tainted by the cross of a bear or an Indian as 
your own. Have you so soon forgotten from whom 
you received the foolish instrument you hold in your 
hand?” 

20 “ Can these things be ? ” returned David, breathing 

more freely, as the truth began to dawn upon him. “ I 
have found many marvels during my sojourn with the 
heathen but, surely, nothing to excel this ! ” 

“ Come, come,” returned Hawkeye, uncasing his hon- 
25 est countenance, the better to assure the wavering con¬ 
fidence of his companion; “ you may see a skin, which, 
if it be not as white as one of the gentle ones, has no 
tinge of red to it, that the winds of the heaven and the 
sun has not bestowed. Now let us to business.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


483 


“ First tell me of the maiden, and of the youth who 
so bravely sought her,” interrupted David. 

“ Ay, they are happily freed from the tomahawks of 
these varlets. But can you put me on the scent of 
Uncas?” 5 

“ The young man is in bondage, and much I fear is 
his death decreed. I greatly mourn that one so well 
disposed should die in his ignorance, and I have sought 
a goodly hymn — ” 

“ Can you lead me to him ? ” 10 

“ The task will not be difficult,” returned David hesi¬ 
tating; “ though I greatly fear your presence would 
rather increase than mitigate his unhappy fortunes.” 

“ No more words, but lead on,” returned Hawk eye, 
concealing his face again, and setting the example in his 15 
own person by instantly quitting the lodge. 

As they proceeded, the scout ascertained that his com¬ 
panion found access to Uncas under privilege of his 
imaginary infirmity, aided by the favor he had acquired 
with one of the guards, who, in consequence of speaking 20 
a little English, had been selected by David as a subject 
of a religious conversion. How far the Huron compre¬ 
hended the intentions of his new friend may well be 
doubted; but as exclusive attention is as 'flattering to a 
savage as to a more civilized individual, it had produced 25 
the effect we have mentioned. It is unnecessary to re¬ 
peat the shrewd manner with which the scout extracted 
these particulars from the simple David, neither shall 
we dwell in this place on the nature of the instructions 


484 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


lie delivered, when completely master of all the neces¬ 
sary facts; as the whole will be sufficiently explained to 
the reader in the course of the narrative. 

The lodge in which Uncas was confined was in the 
5 very centre of the village, and in a situation perhaps 
more difficult than any other to approach or leave with¬ 
out observation. But it was not the policy of Hawkeye 
to affect the least concealment. Presuming on his dis¬ 
guise and his ability to sustain the character he had as- 
10 sumed, he took the most plain and direct route to the 
place. The hour, however, afforded him some little of 
that protection, which he appeared so much to despise. 
The boys were already buried in sleep, and all the wo¬ 
men and most of the warriors had now retired to their 
15 lodges for the night. Pour or five of the latter, only, 
lingered about the door of the prison of Uncas, wary, 
but close observers of the manner of their captive. 

At the sight of Gamut, accompanied by one in the 
well-known masquerade of their most distinguished con- 
20 jurer, they readily made a way for them both. Still, 
they betrayed no intention to depart. On the other 
hand, they were evidently disposed to remain bound to 
the place by an additional interest in the mysterious 
mummeries that they of course expected from such a 
25 visit. 

Prom the total inability of the scout to address the 
Hurons, in their own language, he was compelled to 
trust the conversation entirely to David. Notwithstand¬ 
ing the simplicity of the latter, he did ample justice to 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 485 

the instructions he had received, more than fulfilling 
the strongest hopes of his teacher. 

“ The Delawares are women! ” he exclaimed, address¬ 
ing himself to the savage who had a slight understand¬ 
ing of the language, in which he spoke; “ the Yengeese, 5 
my foolish countrymen, have told them to take up the 
tomahawk and strike their fathers in the Canadas, and 
they have forgotten their sex. Does my brother wish 
to hear ‘ Le Cerf Agile 9 ask for his petticoats, and see 
him weep before the Hurons at the stake ? ” 10 

The exclamation, “ Hugh ! ” delivered in a strong tone 
of assent, announced the gratification the savage would 
receive, in witnessing such an exhibition of weakness in 
an enemy so long hated and so much feared. 

“ Then let him step aside, and the cunning man will 15 
blow upon the dog! Tell it to my brothers.” 

The Huron explained the meaning of David to his 
fellows, who, in their turn, listened to the project with 
that sort of satisfaction that their untamed spirits might 
be expected to find in such a refinement in cruelty. They 20 
drew back a little from the entrance and motioned to the 
supposed conjurer to enter. But the bear, instead of 
obeying, maintained the seat he had taken and growled. 

“ The cunning man is afraid that his breath will blow 
upon his brothers and take away their courage, too,” 25 
continued David, improving the hint he received; “they 
must stand further off.” 

The Hurons, who would have deemed such a misfor¬ 
tune the heaviest calamity that could befall them, fell 


486 


JAMES FENIMOEE COOPER . 


back in a body, taking a position where they were out of 
ear-shot, though at the same time they could command 
a view of the entrance to the lodge. Then, as if satis¬ 
fied of their safety, the scout left his position and 
5 slowly entered the place. It was silent and gloomy, 
being tenanted solely by the captive and lighted by the 
dying embers of a fire which had been used for the pur¬ 
poses of cookery. 

Uncas occupied a distant corner, in a reclining atti 
10 tude, being rigidly bound, both hands and feet, by strong 
and painful withes. When the frightful object first pre¬ 
sented itself to the young Mohican, he did not deign to 
bestow a single glance on the animal. The scout, who 
had left David at the door to ascertain they were not 
15 observed, thought it prudent to preserve his disguise 
until assured of their privacy. Instead of speaking, 
therefore, he exerted himself to enact one of the antics 
of the animal he represented. The young Mohican, who 
at first believed his enemies had sent in a real beast to 
20 torment him and try his nerves, detected in those per¬ 
formances that to Heyward had appeared so accurate, 
certain blemishes that at once betrayed the counterfeit. 
Had Hawkeye been aware of the low estimation in which 
the more skilful Uncas held his representations, he 
25 would, probably, have prolonged the entertainment a 
little in pique. But the scornful expression of the 
young man’s eye admitted of so many constructions, 
that the worthy scout was spared the mortification of 
such a discovery. As soon, therefore, as David gave 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


487 


the preconcerted signal, a low, hissing sound was heard 
in the lodge in place of the fierce growlings of the 
bear. 

Uncas had cast his body back against the wall of the 
hut and closed his eyes, as if willing to exclude so con¬ 
temptible and disagreeable an object from his sight. 
But the moment the noise of the serpent was heard, he 
arose and cast his looks on each side of him, bending 
his head low, and turning it inquiringly in every direc¬ 
tion, until his keen eye rested on the shaggy monster, 
where it remained riveted, as though fixed by the power 
of a charm. Again the same sounds were repeated, evi¬ 
dently proceeding from the mouth of the beast. Once 
more the eyes of the youth roamed over the interior of 
the lodge, and returning to their former resting-place, 
he uttered, in a deep, suppressed voice: 

“ Hawkeye! ” 

“ Cut his bands/’ said Hawkeye to David, who just 
then approached them. 

The singer did as he was ordered, and Uncas found 
his limbs released. At the same moment, the dried skin 
of the animal rattled, and presently the scout arose to 
his feet in proper person. The Mohican appeared to 
comprehend the nature of the attempt his friend had 
made, intuitively; neither tongue nor feature betraying 
another symptom of surprise. When Hawkeye had cast 
his shaggy vestment, which was done by simply loosing 
certain thongs of skin, he drew a long glittering knife 
and put it in the hands of Uncas. 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


488 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


“ The red Hurons are without/’ he said; “ let us be 
ready.” 

At the same time, he laid his finger significantly on 
another similar weapon, both being the fruits of his 
5 prowess among their enemies during the evening. 

“We will go !” said Uncas. 

“ Whither ? ” 

“ To the Tortoises; they are the children of my grand¬ 
fathers ! ” 

10 “Ay, lad,” said the scout in English, a language he 
was apt to use when a little abstracted in mind; “ the 
same blood runs in your veins, I believe; but time and 
distance has a little changed its color. What shall we 
do with the Mingos at the door? They count six, and 
15 this singer is as good as nothing.” 

“The Hurons are boasters,” said Uncas, scornfully; 
“their 1 totem 9 is a moose, and they run like snails. 
The Delawares are children of the tortoise, and they out¬ 
strip the deer.” 

20 “ Ay, lad, there is truth in what you say ; and I doubt 

not, on a rush, you would pass the whole nation; and 
in a straight race of two miles, would be in, and get 
your breath again, afore a knave of them all was within 
hearing of the other village. But the gift of a white 
25 man lies more in his arms than in his legs. As for 
myself, I can brain a Huron as well as a better man 
but when it comes to a race, the knaves would prove too 
much for me.” 

Uncas, who had already approached the door, in readi* 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 489 

ness to lead the way, now recoiled, and placed himself 
once more in the bottom of the lodge. But Hawkeye, 
who was too much occupied with his own thoughts to 
note the movement, continued speaking more to himself 
than to his companion. 5 

“ After all,” he said, “ it is unreasonable to keep one 
man in bondage to the gifts of another. So, Uncas, you 
had better take the leap, while I will put on the skin 
again and trust to cunning for want of speed.” 

The young Mohican made no reply, but quietly folded 10 
his arms and leaned his body against one of the upright 
posts that supported the wall of the hut. 

“ Well,” said the scout, looking up at him, “ why do 
you tarry ? there will be time enough for me, as the 
knaves will give chase to you at first.” 15 

“ Uncas will stay,” was the calm reply. 

“ For what ? ” 

“ To fight with his father’s brother, and die with the 
friend of the Delawares.” 

“ Ay, lad,” returned Hawkeye, squeezing the hand of 20 
Uncas between his own iron fingers ; u ’twould have been 
more like a Mingo than a Mohican, had you left me. 
Bpt I thought I would make the offer, seeing that youth 
commonly loves life. Well, what can’t be done by main 
courage, in war, must be done by circumvention. Put 25 
on the skin ; I doubt not you can play the bear nearly 
as well as myself.” 

Whatever might have been the private opinion of 
Uncas of their respective abilities in this particular, his 


490 


JAMES EEN1MORE COOPER. 


grave countenance manifested no opinion of his own 
superiority. He silently and expeditiously incased him¬ 
self in the covering of the beast, and then awaited such 
other movements as his more aged companion saw fit to 
5 dictate. 

“ How, friend,” said Hawkeye, addressing David, “ an 
exchange of garments will be a great convenience to you, 
inasmuch as you are but little accustomed to the make¬ 
shifts of the wilderness. Here, take my hunting-shirt 
10 and cap and give me your blanket and hat. You must 
trust me with the book and spectacles, as well as the 
tooter, too; if we ever meet again, in better times, you 
shall have all back again, with many thanks in the bar¬ 
gain.’’ 

15 David parted with the several articles named with a 
readiness that would have done great credit to his liber¬ 
ality, had he not certainly profited, in many particulars, 
by the exchange. Hawkeye was not long in assuming 
his borrowed garments ; and when his restless eyes were 
20 hid behind the glasses and his head was surmounted by 
the triangular beaver, as their statures were not dissim¬ 
ilar, he might readily have passed for the singer by star¬ 
light. As soon as these dispositions were made, the 
scout turned to David, and gave him his parting instruc- 
25 tions. 

“Are you much given to cowardice?” he bluntly 
asked, by way of obtaining a suitable understanding of 
the whole case, before he ventured a prescription. 

“ My pursuits are peaceful, and my temper, I humbly 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


491 


trust, is greatly given to mercy and love,” returned 
David, a little nettled at so direct an attack on his man¬ 
hood ; “ but there are none who can say that I have ever 
forgotten my faith in the Lord, even in the greatest 
straits.” 5 

“ Your chiefest danger will be at the moment when 
the savages find out that they have been deceived. If 
you are not then knocked in the head, your being a nom 
composser will protect you, and you’ll then have good 
reason to expect to die in your bed. If you stay, it 10 
must be to sit down here in the shadow and take the 
part of Uncas, until such times as the cunning of the 
Indians discover the cheat, when, as I have already said, 
your time of trial will come. So choose for yourself, to 
make a rush or tarry here.” 15 

“ Even so,” said David, firmly; “ I will abide in the 
place of the Delaware; bravely and generously has he 
battled in my behalf, and this, and more, will I dare in 
his service.” 

“ You have spoken as a man, and like one who, under 20 
wiser schooling, would have been brought to better 
things. Hold your head down and draw in your legs; 
their formation might tell the truth too early. Keep 
silent as long as may be ; and it would be wise when 
you do speak, to break out suddenly in one of your 2 1 
shoutings, which will serve to remind the Indians that 
you are not altogether as responsible as men should be. 

If, however, they take your scalp, as I trust and believe 
they will not, depend on it, Uncas and I will not forget 


492 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


the deed, but revenge it as becomes true warriors and 
trusty friends.” 

“ Hold! ” said David, perceiving that with this assur¬ 
ance they were about to leave him; “ I am an unworthy 
5 and humble follower of One, who taught not the dam¬ 
nable principle of revenge. Should I fall, therefore, 
seek no victims to my manes , but rather forgive my 
destroyers; and if you remember them at all, let it be 
in prayers for the enlightening of their minds and for 
10 their eternal welfare.” 

The scout hesitated and appeared to muse deeply. 

“There is a principle in that,” he said, “different 
from the law of the woods ; and yet it is fair and noble 
to reflect upon.” Then, heaving a heavy sigh, probably 
15 among the last he ever drew in pining for the condition 
he had so long abandoned, he added: “It is what I 
would wish to practyse myself, as one without a cross 
of blood, though it is not always easy to deal with an 
Indian as you would with a fellow Christian. God bless 
20 you, friend; I do believe your scent is not greatly 
wrong, when the matter is duly considered, and keeping 
eternity before the eyes, though much depends on the 
natural gifts and the force of temptation.” 

So saying, the scout returned and shook David cor- 
25 dially by the hand; after which act of friendship, he 
immediately left the lodge, attended by the new repre¬ 
sentative of the beast. 

The instant Hawkeye found himself under the obser¬ 
vation of the Hurons, he drew up his tall form in the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


493 


rigid manner of David, threw out his arm in the act of 
keeping time, and commenced, what he intended for an 
imitation of his psalmody. Happily, for the success of 
this delicate adventure, he had to deal with ears but 
little practised in the concord of sweet sounds, or the 
miserable effort would infallibly have been detected. It 
was necessary to pass within a dangerous proximity of 
the dark group of the savages, and the voice of the scout 
grew louder as they drew nigher. When at the nearest 
point, the Huron who spoke the English, thrust out an 
arm and stopped the supposed singing-master. 

“The Delaware dog!” he said, leaning forward, and 
peering through the dim light to catch the expression of 
the other’s features: “ is he afraid ? will the Hurons 
hear his groans ? ” 

A growl so exceedingly fierce and natural proceeded 
from the beast, that the young Indian released his hold, 
and started aside, as if to assure himself that it was not 
a veritable bear, and no counterfeit, that was rolling 
before him. Hawkeye, who feared his voice would 
betray him to his subtle enemies, gladly profited by the 
interruption to break out anew in such a burst of musi¬ 
cal expression, as would, probably, in a more refined 
state of society, have been termed a “ grand crash.” 
Among his actual auditors, however, it merely gave him 
an additional claim to that respect, which they never 
withhold from such as are believed to be the subjects of 
mental alienation. The little knot of Indians drew back 
in a body and suffered, as they thought, the conjurer and 
his inspired assistant to proceed. 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 

30 


494 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


It required no common exercise of fortitude in Uncas 
and the scout to continue the dignified and deliberate 
pace they had assumed in passing the lodges ; especially, 
as they immediately perceived that curiosity had so far 
5 mastered fear, as to induce the watchers to approach the 
hut, in order to witness the effect of the incantations. 
The least injudicious or impatient movement on the part 
of David might betray them, and time was absolutely 
necessary to insure the safety of the scout. The loud 
10 noise the latter conceived it politic to continue drew 
many curious gazers to the doors of the different huts, 
as they passed ; and once or twice a dark-looking warrior 
stepped across their path, led to the act by superstition 
or watchfulness. They were not, however, interrupted; 
15 the darkness of the hour and the boldness of the attempt 
proving their principal friends. 

The adventurers had got clear of the village, and 
were now swiftly approaching the shelter of the woods, 
when a loud and long cry arose from the lodge where 
20 Uncas had been confined. The Mohican started on his 
feet, and shook his shaggy covering, as though the ani¬ 
mal he counterfeited was about to make some desperate 
effort. 

“ Hold ! ” said the scout, grasping his friend by the 
25 shoulder, “ let them yell again ! ’Twas nothing but 
wonderment/’ 

He had no occasion to delay, for at the next instant a 
burst of cries filled the outer air and ran along the whole 
extent of the village. Uncas cast his skin and stepped 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


495 


forth in his own beautiful proportions. Hawkeye tapped 
him lightly on the shoulder and glided ahead. 

“ Now let the devils strike our scent! ” said the scout, 
tearing two rifles, with all their attendant accoutrements 
from beneath a bush, and flourishing ( Kill-deer ? as he 5 
handed Uncas a weapon; “two, at least, will find it to 
their deaths.” 

Then throwing their pieces to a low trail, like sports¬ 
men in readiness for their game, they dashed forward, 
and were soon buried in the sombre darkness of the 10 
forest. 


496 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

Ant. I shall remember: 

When Caesar says, do this, it is performed. 

Shakspbare, Julius Csesar. 

The impatience of the savages who lingered about the 
prison of Uncas, as has been seen, had overcome their 
dread of the conjurer’s breath. They stole cautiously, 
and with beating hearts, to a crevice through which the 
5 faint light of the fire was glimmering. For several min¬ 
utes they mistook the form of David for that of their 
prisoner; but the very accident which Hawkeye had 
foreseen, occurred. Tired of keeping the extremities of 
his long person so near together, the singer gradually 
10 suffered the lower limbs to extend themselves, until one 
of his misshapen feet actually came in contact with, and 
shoved aside, the embers of the fire. At first the Hu- 
rons believed the Delaware had been thus deformed by 
witchcraft. But when David, unconscious of being ob- 
15 served, turned his head and exposed his simple, mild 
countenance in place of the haughty lineaments of their 
prisoner, it would have exceeded the credulity of even a 
native to have doubted any longer. They rushed to¬ 
gether into the lodge, and laying their hands, with but 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


497 


little ceremony, on their captive, immediately detected 
the imposition. Then arose the cry first heard by the 
fugitives. It was succeeded by the most frantic and 
angry demonstrations of vengeance. David, however 
firm in his determination to cover the retreat of his 
friends, was compelled to believe that his own final hour 
had come. Deprived of his book and his pipe, he was 
fain to trust to a memory that rarely failed him on such 
subjects, and breaking forth in a loud and impassioned 
strain, he endeavored to sooth his passage into the other 
world, by singing the opening verse of a funeral anthem. 
The Indians were seasonably reminded of his infirmity, 
and rushing into the open air. they aroused the village 
in the manner described. 

A native warrior fights as he sleeps, without the pro¬ 
tection of anything defensive. The sounds of the alarm 
were, therefore, hardly uttered, before two hundred men 
were afoot, and ready for the battle or the chase, as 
either might be required. The escape was soon known, 
and the whole tribe crowded, in a body, around the 
council lodge, impatiently awaiting the instruction of 
their chiefs. In such a sudden demand on their wisdom, 
the presence of the cunning Magua could scarcely fail 
of being needed. His name was mentioned, and all 
looked round in wonder that he did not appear. Mes¬ 
sengers were then despatched to his lodge, requiring his 
presence. 

In the meantime, some of the swiftest and most dis¬ 
creet of the young men were ordered to make the circuit 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


498 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


of the clearing, under cover of the woods, in order to 
ascertain that their suspected neighbors, the Delawares, 
designed no mischief. Women and children ran to and 
fro; and, in short, the whole encampment exhibited an- 
5 other scene of wild and savage confusion. Gradually, 
however, these symptoms of disorder diminished, and 
in a few minutes the oldest and most distinguished 
chiefs were assembled in the lodge in grave consulta¬ 
tion. 

10 The clamor of many voices soon announced that a 
party approached, who might be expected to communi¬ 
cate some intelligence that would explain the mystery 
of the novel surprise. The crowd without gave way, and 
several warriors entered the place, bringing with them 
15 the hapless conjurer, who had been left so long by the 
scout in duress. 

Notwithstanding this man was held in very unequal 
estimation among the Hurons, some believing implicitly 
in his power and others deeming him an impostor, he 
20 was now listened to by all with the deepest attention. 
When his brief story was ended, the father of the sick 
woman stepped forth, and in a few pithy expressions, 
related in his turn what he knew. These two narratives 
gave a proper direction to the subsequent inquiries, 
25 which were now made with the characteristic cunning 
of the savages. 

Instead of rushing in a confused and disorderly throng 
to the cavern, ten of the wisest and firmest among the 
chiefs were selected to prosecute the investigation. As 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


499 


no time was to be lost, the instant the choice was made, 
the individuals appointed rose in a body and left the 
place without speaking. On reaching the entrance, the 
younger men in advance made way for their seniors, and 
the whole proceeded along the low, dark gallery, with 
the firmness of warriors ready to devote themselves 
to the public good, though, at the same time, secretly 
doubting the nature of the power with which they were 
about to contend. 

The outer apartment of the cavern was silent and 
gloomy. The woman lay in her usual place and posture, 
though there were those present who had just affirmed 
they had seen her borne to the woods by the supposed 
“ medicine of the white men.” Such a direct and pal¬ 
pable contradiction of the tale related by the father 
caused all eyes to be turned on him. Chafed by the si¬ 
lent imputation, and inwardly troubled by so unaccount¬ 
able a circumstance, the chief advanced to the side of 
the bed, and, stooping, cast an incredulous look at the 
features, as if distrusting their reality. His daughter 
was dead. 

The unerring feeling of nature for a moment prevailed, 
and the old warrior hid his eyes in sorrow. Then, recov¬ 
ering his self-possession, he faced, his companions, and, 
pointing towards the corpse, he said, in the language of 
his people: 

“ The wife of my young man has left us! the Great 
Spirit is angry with his children.” 

The mournful intelligence was received in solemn sk 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


500 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


lence. After a short pause one of the elder Indians was 
about to speak, when a dark-looking object was seen roll¬ 
ing out of an adjoining apartment, into the very centre 
of the room where they stood. Ignorant of the nature 
5 of the beings they had to deal with, the whole party 
drew back a little and gazed in admiration, until the ob¬ 
ject fronted the light, and, rising on end, exhibited the 
distorted, but still fierce and sullen features of Magua. 
The discovery was succeeded by a general exclamation 
10 of amazement. 

As soon, however, as the true situation of the chief 
was understood, several ready knives appeared and his 
limbs and tongue were quickly released. The Huron 
arose and shook himself like a lion quitting his lair. 
15 Not a word escaped him, though his hand played convul¬ 
sively with the handle of his knife, while his lowering 
eyes scanned the whole party, as if they sought an ob¬ 
ject suited to the first burst of his vengeance. 

It was happy for Uncas and the scout and even David, 
20 that they were all beyond the reach of his arm at such 
a moment; for, assuredly, no refinement in cruelty would 
then have deferred their deaths, in opposition to the 
promptings of the fierce temper that nearly choked him. 
Meeting everywhere faces that he knew as friends, the 
25 savage grated his teeth together like rasps of iron, and 
swallowed his passion, for want of a victim on whom to 
vent it. This exhibition of anger was keenly noted by 
all present, and from an apprehension of exasperating a 
temper that was already chafed nearly to madness, sev- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 501 

eral minutes were suffered to pass before another word 
was uttered. When, however, suitable time had elapsed, 
the oldest of the party spoke. 

“ My friend has found an enemy,’’ he said. “ Is he 
nigh, that the Hurons may take revenge ? ” 

“ Let the Delaware die ! ” exclaimed Magua in a voice 
of thunder. , 

Another long and expressive silence was observed, and 
was broken, as before, with due precaution, by the same 
individual. 

“ The Mohican is swift of foot, and leaps far,” he said ; 
“but my young men are on his trail.” 

“ Is he gone ? ” demanded Magua, in tones so deep and 
guttural that they seemed to proceed from his inmost 
chest. 

“ An evil spirit has been among us, and the Delaware 
has blinded our eyes.” 

“ An evil spirit! ” repeated the other, mockingly; “ ’tis 
the spirit that has taken the lives of so many Hurons; 
the spirit that slew my young men at ‘ the tumbling 
river;’ that took their scalps at the < healing spring; ’ 
and who has now bound the arms of Le Renard Subtil! ” 

“ Of whom does my friend speak ? ” 

“ Of the dog who carries the heart and cunning of a 
Huron under a pale skin —■ La Longue Carabine.” 

The pronunciation of so terrible a name produced the 
usual effect among his auditors. But when time was 
given for reflection, and the warriors remembered that 
their formidable and daring enemy had even been in the 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


502 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


bosom of their encampment working injury, fearful rage 
took the place of wonder, and all those fierce passions 
with which the bosom of Magua had just been strug¬ 
gling, were suddenly transferred to his companions. 
5 Some among them gnashed their teeth in anger, others 
vented their feelings in yells, and some, again, beat the 
air as frantically as if the object of their resentment was 
suffering under their blows. But this sudden outbreak¬ 
ing of temper as quickly subsided in the still and sullen 
10 restraint they most affected in their moments of inaction. 

Magua, who had in his turn found leisure for reflec¬ 
tion, now changed his manner, and assumed the air of 
one who knew how to think and act with a dignity 
worthy of so grave a subject. 

15 “ Let us go to my people,” he said ; “ they wait for 

us.” 

His companions consented in silence, and the whole of 
the savage party left the cavern, and returned to the 
council lodge. When they were seated, all eyes turned 
20 on Magua, who understood, from such an indication, 
that, by common consent, they had devolved the duty of 
relating what had passed, on him. He arose and told 
his tale without duplicity or reservation. The whole 
deception practised by both Duncan and Hawkeye, was, 
25 of course, laid naked ; and no room was found, even for 
the most superstitious of the tribe, any longer to affix a 
doubt on the character of the occurrences. It was but 
too apparent that they had been insultingly, shamefully, 
disgracefully deceived. When he had ended and re> 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


503 


sumed his seat, the collected tribe — for his auditors, in 
substance, included all the fighting men of the party — 
sat regarding each other like men astonished equally at 
the audacity and the success of their enemies. The next 
consideration, however, was the means and opportunities 5 
for revenge. 

Additional pursuers were sent on the trail of the 
fugitives; and then the chiefs applied themselves in 
earnest to the business of consultation. Many different 
expedients were proposed by the elder warriors in sue-10 
cession, to all of which Magua was a silent and respect¬ 
ful listener. That subtle savage had recovered his 
artifice and self-command, and now proceeded towards 
his object with his customary caution and skill. It was 
only when each one disposed to speak had uttered his 15 
sentiments, that he prepared to advance his own opin¬ 
ions. They were given with additional weight, from the 
circumstance that some of the runners had already re¬ 
turned, and reported that their enemies had been traced 
so far as to leave no doubt of their having sought safety 20 
in the neighboring camp of their suspected allies, the 
Delawares. With the advantage of possessing this im¬ 
portant intelligence, the chief warily laid his plans before 
his fellows, and, as might have been anticipated from 
his eloquence and cunning, they were adopted without 25 
a dissenting voice. They were, briefly, as follows, both 
in opinions and in motives. 

It has been already stated that, in obedience to a 
policy rarely departed from, the sisters were separated 


504 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


so soon as they reached the Huron village. Magua had 
early discovered that, in retaining the person of Alice 
he possessed the most effectual check on Cora. When 
they parted, therefore, he kept the former within reach 
5 of his hand, consigning the one he most valued to the 
keeping of their allies. The arrangement was under¬ 
stood to be merely temporary, and was made as much 
with a view to flatter his neighbors as in obedience to 
the invariable rule of Indian policy. 

10 While goaded incessantly by those revengeful im¬ 
pulses that in a savage seldom slumber, the chief was 
still attentive to his more permanent, personal interests. 
The follies and disloyalty committed in his youth were 
to be expiated by a long and painful penance, ere he 
15 could be restored to the full enjoyment of the confidence 
of his ancient people; and without confidence there 
could be no authority in an Indian tribe. In this deli¬ 
cate and arduous situation, the crafty native had 
neglected no means of increasing his influence; and one 
20 of the happiest of his expedients had been the success 
with which he had cultivated the favor of their powerful 
and most dangerous neighbor. The results of his ex¬ 
periments had answered all the expectations of his 
policy; for the Hurons were in no degree exempt from 
25 that governing principle of our nature, which induces 
man to value his gifts precisely in the degree that they 
are appreciated by others. 

But while he was making this ostensible sacrifice to 
general considerations, Magua never lost sight of his 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


505 


individual motives. The latter had been frustrated by 
the unlooked-for events, which had thus placed all his 
prisoners beyond his control, and he now found himself 
reduced to the necessity of suing for favors to those 
whom it had so lately been his policy to oblige. 5 

Several of the chiefs had proposed deep and treacher¬ 
ous schemes to surprise the Delawares, and, by gaining 
possession of their camp, to recover their prisoners by 
the same blow; for all agreed that their honor, their 
interests, and the peace. and happiness of\ their dead 1C 
countrymen imperiously required them speedily to im¬ 
molate some victims to their revenge. But plans so 
dangerous to attempt, and of such doubtful issue, Magua 
found little difficulty in defeating. He exposed their 
risk and fallacy with his usual skill; and it was only 15 
after he had removed every impediment in the shape of 
opposing advice that he ventured to propose his own 
projects. 

He commenced by flattering the self-love of his au¬ 
ditors ; a never-failing method of commanding attention. 20 
When he had enumerated the many different occasions 
on which the Hurons had exhibited their courage and 
prowess in the punishment of insults, he digressed in a 
high encomium on the virtue of wisdom. He painted 
the quality, as forming the great point of difference 25 
between the beaver and other brutes ; between brutes 
and men; and, finally, between the Hurons in particu¬ 
lar and the rest of the human race. After he had 
sufficiently extolled the property of discretion, he under- 


506 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


took to exhibit in what manner its use was applicable to 
the present situation of their tribe. On the one hand, 
he said, was their great pale father, the governor of the 
Canadas, who had looked upon his children with a hard 
5 eye, since their tomahawks had been so red ; on the 
other, a people as numerous as themselves, who spoke 
a different language, possessed different interests, and 
loved them not, and who would be glad of any pretence 
to bring them in disgrace with the great white chief. 
10 Then he spoke of their necessities; of the gifts they 
had a right to expect for their past services; of 
their distance from their proper hunting-grounds and 
native villages; and of the necessity of consulting 
prudence more, and inclination less, in such critical cir- 
15 cumstances. When he perceived that, while the old 
men applauded his moderation, many of the fiercest and 
most distinguished of the warriors listened to these 
politic plans with lowering looks, he cunningly led them 
back to the subject which they most loved. He spoke 
20 openly of the fruits of their wisdom, which he boldly 
pronounced would be a complete and final triumph over 
their enemies. He even darkly hinted that their suc¬ 
cess might be extended, with proper caution, in such a 
manner as to include the destruction of all whom they 
25 had reason to hate. In short, he so blended the war¬ 
like with the artful, the obvious with the obscure, as to 
flatter the propensities of both parties, and to leave to 
each subject for hope, while neither could say it clearly 
comprehended his intentions. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 507 

The orator or the politican who can produce such a 
state of things, is commonly popular with his contem¬ 
poraries, however he may be treated by posterity. All 
perceived that more w T as meant than was uttered, and 
each one believed that the hidden meaning was precisely 
such as his own faculties enabled him to understand or 
his own wishes led him to anticipate. 

In this happy state of things, it is not surprising that 
the management of Magua prevailed. The tribe con¬ 
sented to act with deliberation, and with one voice they 
committed the direction of the whole affair to the gov¬ 
ernment of the chief who had suggested such wise and 
intelligible expedients. 

Magua had now attained one great object of all his 
cunning and enterprise. The ground he had lost in the 
favor of his people was completely regained, and he 
found himself even placed at the head of affairs. He 
was, in truth, their ruler; and, so long as he could 
maintain his popularity, no monarch could be more des¬ 
potic, especially while the tribe continued in a hostile 
country. Throwing off, therefore, the appearance of con¬ 
sultation, he assumed the grave air of authority neces¬ 
sary to support the dignity of his office. 

Runners were despatched for intelligence in different 
directions ; spies were ordered to approach and feel the 
encampment of the Delawares ; the warriors were dis¬ 
missed to their lodges, with an intimation that their 
services would soon be needed ; and the women and 
children were ordered to retire, with a warning that it 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


508 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


was their province to be silent. When these several 
arrangements were made, Magua passed through the vil¬ 
lage, stopping here and there to pay a visit where he 
thought his presence might be flattering to the individ- 
5 ual. He confirmed his friends in their confidence, fixed 
the wavering, and gratified all. Then he sought his own 
lodge. The wife the Huron chief had abandoned, when 
he was chased from among his people, was dead. Chil¬ 
dren he had none; and he now occupied a hut without 
10 companion of any sort. It was, in fact, the dilapidated 
and solitary structure in which David had been discov¬ 
ered, and whom he had tolerated in his presence, on 
those few occasions when they met, with the contemp¬ 
tuous indifference of a haughty superiority. 

15 Hither, then, Magua retired, when his labors of policy 
were ended. While others slept, however, he neither 
knew nor sought repose. Had there been one suffi¬ 
ciently curious to have watched the movements of the 
newly elected chief, he would have seen him seated in a 
20 corner of his lodge, musing on the subject of his future 
plans, from the hour of his retirement to the time he 
had appointed for the warriors to assemble again. Occa¬ 
sionally the air breathed through the crevices of the hut 
and the low flame that fluttered about the embers of the 
25 fire threw their wavering light on the person of the sul¬ 
len recluse. At such moments, it would not have been 
difficult to have fancied the dusky savage the Prince of 
Darkness, brooding on his own fancied wrongs and plob 
ting evil. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 509 

Long before the day dawned, however, warrior after 
warrior entered the solitary hut of Magua, until they 
had collected to the number of twenty. Each bore his 
rifle and all the other accoutrements of war; though 
the paint was uniformly peaceful. The entrance of 
these fierce-looking beings was unnoticed ; some seating 
themselves in the shadows of the place, and others 
standing like motionless statues, until the whole of the 
designated band was collected. 

Then Magua arose and gave the signal to proceed, 
marching himself in advance. They followed their 
leader singly, and in that well-known order, which has 
obtained the distinguishing appellation of “ Indian file.” 
Unlike other men engaged in the spirit-stirring business 
of war, they stole from their camp unostentatiously and 
unobserved, resembling a band of gliding spectres more 
than warriors seeking the bubble reputation by deeds of 
desperate daring. 

Instead of taking the path which led directly towards 
the camp of the Delawares, Magua led his party for 
some distance down the windings of the stream and 
along the little artificial lake of the beavers. The day 
began to dawn as they entered the clearing, which had 
been formed by those sagacious and industrious animals. 
Though Magua, who had resumed his ancient garb, bore 
the outline of a fox on the dressed skin which formed 
his robe, there was one chief of his party, who carried 
the beaver as his peculiar symbol, or “ totem.” There 
would have been a species of profanity in the omission, 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


had this man passed so powerful a community of his 
fancied kindred without bestowing some evidence of 
his regard. Accordingly he paused, and spoke in words 
as kind and friendly, as if he were addressing more 
5 intelligent beings. He called the animals his cousins, 
and reminded them that his protecting influence was 
the reason they remained unharmed, while so many 
avaricious traders were prompting the Indians to take 
their lives. He promised a continuance of his favors, 
10 and admonished them to be grateful. After which, he 
spoke of the expedition in which he was himself engaged, 
and intimated, though with sufficient delicacy and cir¬ 
cumlocution, the expediency of bestowing on their rela¬ 
tive a portion of that wisdom for which they were so 
15 renowned. 

During the utterance of this extraordinary address 
the companions of the speaker were as grave and as 
attentive to his language, as though they were all 
equally impressed with its propriety. Once or twice 
20 black objects were seen rising to the surface of the 
water, and the Huron expressed pleasure, conceiving 
that his words were not bestowed in vain. Just as he 
had ended his address, the head of a large beaver was 
thrust from the door of a lodge, whose earthen walls 
25 had been much injured, and which the party had 
believed, from its situation, was uninhabited. Such an 
extraordinary sign of confidence was received by the 
orator as a highly favorable omen; and, though the 
animal retreated a little precipitately, he was lavish of 
30 his thanks and commendations. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


511 


When Magna thought sufficient time had been lost 
in gratifying the family affection of the warrior, he again 
made the signal to proceed. As the Indians moved away 
in a body, and with a step that would have been inaudi¬ 
ble to the ears of any common man, the same venerable- 5 
looking beaver once more ventured his head from its 
cover. Had any of the Hurons turned to look behind 
them, they would have seen the animal watching their 
movements with an interest and sagacity that might 
easily have been mistaken for reason. Indeed, so very 10 
distinct and intelligible were the devices of the quad¬ 
ruped, that even the most experienced observer would 
have been at a loss to account for its actions, until the 
moment when the party entered the forest, when the 
whole would have been explained by seeing the entire 15 
animal issue from the lodge, uncasing, by the act, the 
grave features of Chingachgook from his mask of fur. 


512 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Brief, I pray you; for you see it is a busy time with me. 

Shakspeare, Much Ado About Nothing. 

The tribe, or rather half-tribe, of Delawares, which 
has been so often mentioned, and whose present place of 
encampment was so nigh the temporary village of the 
Hurons, could assemble about an equal number of war- 
5 riors with the latter people. Like their neighbors, they 
had followed Montcalm into the territories of the Eng¬ 
lish crown, and were making heavy and serious inroads 
on the hunting-grounds of the Mohawks, though they 
had seen fit, with the mysterious reserve so common 
10 among the natives, to withhold their assistance at the 
moment when it was most required. The French had 
accounted for this unexpected defection on the part of 
their ally in various ways. It was the prevalent opinion, 
however, that they had been influenced by veneration 
15 for the ancient treaty that had once made them depen¬ 
dent on the Iroquois for military protection, and now 
rendered them reluctant to encounter their former mas¬ 
ters. As for the tribe itself, it had been content tG 
announce to Montcalm, through his emissaries, with 
20 Indian brevity, that their hatchets were dull, and time 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


513 


was necessary to sharpen them. The politic captain of 
the Canadas had deemed it wiser to submit to entertain 
a passive friend than, by any acts of ill-judged severity, 
to convert him into an open enemy. 

On that morning when Magua led his silent party 
from the settlement of the beavers into the forest, in 
the manner described, the sun rose upon the Delaware 
encampment, as if it had suddenly burst upon a busy 
people, actively employed in all the customary avoca¬ 
tions of high noon. The women ran from lodge to 
lodge, some engaged in preparing their morning’s meal, 
a few earnestly bent on seeking the comforts necessary 
to their habits, but more pausing to exchange hasty and 
whispered sentences with their friends. The warriors 
were lounging in groups, musing more than they con¬ 
versed ; and when a few words were uttered, speaking 
like men who deeply weighed their opinions. The in¬ 
struments of the chase were to be seen in abundance 
among the lodges ; but none departed. Here and there 
a warrior was examining his arms, with an attention that 
is rarely bestowed on the implements, when no other 
enemy, than the beasts of the forest, is expected to be 
encountered. And occasionally the eyes of a whole 
group were turned simultaneously towards a large and 
silent lodge in the centre of the village, as if it con¬ 
tained the subject of their common thoughts. 

During the existence of this scene, a man suddenly 
appeared at the farthest extremity of that platform of 
rock which formed the level of the village. He was 


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20 

25 


514 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


without arms, and his paint tended rather to soften than 
increase the natural sternness of his austere countenance. 
When in full view of the Delawares, he stopped and 
made a gesture of amity by throwing his arm upward 
5 towards heaven, and then letting it fall impressively on 
his breast. The inhabitants of the village answered his 
salute by a low murmur of welcome, and encouraged 
him to advance by similar indications of friendship. 
Fortified by these assurances, the dark figure left the 
10 brow of the natural rocky terrace, where it had stood 
a moment, drawn in a strong outline against the blush¬ 
ing morning sky, and moved with dignity into the very 
centre of the huts. As he approached, nothing was 
audible but the rattling of the light silver ornaments 
15 that loaded his arms and neck, and the tinkling of the 
little bells that fringed his deerskin moccasins. He 
made, as he advanced, many courteous signs of greeting 
to the men he passed, neglecting to notice the women, 
however, like one who deemed their favor in the present 
20 enterprise of no importance. When he had reached the 
group, in which it was evident, by the haughtiness of 
their common mien, that the principal chiefs were col¬ 
lected, the stranger paused and then the Delawares saw 
that the active and erect form that stood before them, 
25 was that of the well-known Huron chief, Le Renard 
Subtil. 

His reception was grave, silent, and wary. The war- 
riors in front stepped aside, opening the way to their 
most approved orator by the action; one who spoke all 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


515 


those languages that were cultivated among the northern 
aborigines. 

“The wise Huron is welcome,” said the Delaware, in 
the language of the Maquas; “he is come to eat his 
‘ succotash J with his brothers of the lakes.” 5 

“ He is come ; ” repeated Magua, bending his head 
with the dignity of an eastern prince. 

The chief extended his arm, and taking the other by 
the wrist, they once more exchanged friendly salutations. 
Then the Delaware invited his guest to enter his own 10 
lodge and share his morning meal. The invitation was 
accepted, and the two warriors, attended by three or 
four of the old men, walked calmly away, leaving the 
rest of the tribe devoured by a desire to understand the 
reasons of so unusual a visit, and yet not betraying 15 
the least impatience by sign or syllable. 

During the short and frugal repast that followed, the 
conversation was extremely circumspect, and related en¬ 
tirely to the events of the hunt in which Magua had so 
lately been engaged. It would have been impossible for 20 
the most finished breeding to wear more of the appear¬ 
ance of considering the visit as a thing of course than 
did his hosts, notwithstanding every individual present 
was perfectly aware that it must be connected with some 
secret object, and that probably of the last importance 25 
to themselves. When the appetites of the whole were 
appeased, the squaws removed the trenchers and gourds, 
and the two parties began to prepare themselves for a 
trial of their wits. 


616 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ Is the face of my great Canada father turned again 
towards his Huron children ? ” demanded the orator oi 
the Delawares. 

“ When was it ever otherwise ? ” returned Magua. 
5 “ He calls my people ‘ most beloved/ ” 

The Delaware gravely bowed his acquiescence to what 
he knew to be false, and continued : 

“ The tomahawks of your young men have been very 
red. ” 

10 “ It is so; but they are now bright and dull; for the 

.Yengeese are dead, and the Delawares are our neigh¬ 
bors/’ 

The other acknowledged the pacific compliment by a 
gesture of the hand, and remained silent. Then Magua, 
15 as if recalled to such a recollection by the allusion to 
the massacre, demanded : 

“ Does my prisoner give trouble to my brothers ? ” 

“ She is welcome/’ 

“The path between the Hurons and Delawares is 
20 short, and it is open; let her be sent to my squaws, if 
she gives trouble to my brother.” 

“ She is welcome,” returned the chief of the latter 
nation, still more emphatically. 

The baffled Magua continued silent several minutes, 
25 apparently indifferent, however, to the repulse he had 
received in this his opening effort to regain possession 
of Cora. 

“ Do my young men leave the Delawares room on the 
mountains for their hunts ? ” he at length continued. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


517 


“ The Lenape are rulers of their own hills/’ returned 
the other, a little haughtily. 

“ It is well. Justice is the master of a red-skin. 
Why should they brighten their tomahawks and sharpen 
their knives against each other? Are not the pale faces 5 
thicker than the swallows in the season of flowers ? ” 

66 Good ! ” exclaimed two or three of his audience at 
the same time. 

Magua waited a little, to permit his words to soften 
the feelings of the Delawares, before he added : 10 

“ Have there not been strange moccasins in the woods ? 
Have not my brothers scented the feet of white men ? ” 

“ Let my Canada father come,” returned the other 
evasively; “ his children are ready to see him.” 

“ When the Great Chief comes, it is to smoke with 15 
the Indians, in their wigwams. The Hurons say, too, 
he is welcome. But the Yengeese have long arms, and 
legs that never tire. My young men dreamed they had 
seen the trail of the Yengeese nigh the village of the 
Delawares.” 20 

“ They will not find the Lenape asleep.” 

“ It is well. The warrior whose eye is open can see 
his enemy,” said Magua, once more shifting his ground, 
when he found himself unable to penetrate the caution 
of his companion. “ I have brought gifts to my brother. 25 
His nation would not go on the war-path, because they 
did not think it well; but their friends have remem¬ 
bered where they lived.” 

When he had thus announced his liberal intention, 


518 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


the crafty chief arose, and gravely spread his presents 
before the dazzled eyes of his hosts. They consisted 
principally of trinkets of little value, plundered from 
the slaughtered females of William Henry. In the divis- 
5 ion of the baubles, the cunning Huron discovered no 
less art than in their selection. While he bestowed 
those of greater value on the two most distinguished 
warriors, one of whom was his host, he seasoned his 
offerings to their inferiors with such well-timed and appo- 
10 site compliments as left them no grounds of complaint. 
In short, the whole ceremony contained such a happy 
blending of the profitable with the flattering, that it 
was not difficult for the donor immediately to read the 
effect of a generosity so aptly mingled with praise, in 
15 the eyes of those he addressed. 

This well-judged and politic stroke on the part of 
Magua was not without instantaneous results. The 
Delawares lost their gravity, in a much more cordial ex¬ 
pression ; and the host, in particular, after contemplating 
20 his own liberal share of the spoil for some moments 
with peculiar gratification, repeated with strong em¬ 
phasis the words: 

“ My brother is a wise chief. He is welcome ! ” 

“ The Hurons love their friends the Delawares,” re- 
25 turned Magua. “ Why should they not ? they are col¬ 
ored by the same sun, and their just men will hunt in 
the same grounds after death. The redskins should be 
friends, and look with open eyes on the white men. 
Has not my brother scented spies in the woods ? ” v 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


519 


The Delaware, whose name in English signified “ Hard- 
heart,” an appellation that the French had translated 
into u Le-cceur-dur,” forgot that obduracy of purpose 
which had probably obtained him so significant a title. 
His countenance grew very sensibly less stern, and he fi 
now deigned to answer more directly. 

“ There have been strange moccasins about my camp. 
They have been tracked into my lodges.” 

“ Did my brother beat out the dogs ?” asked Magua, 
without adverting in any manner to the former equivoca -10 
tion of the chief. 

“ It would not do. The stranger is always welcome 
to the children of the Lenape.” 

“ The stranger, but not the spy.” 

“ Would the Yengeese send their women as spies ? 15 
Did not the Huron chief say he took women in the 
battle?” 

“ He told no lie. The Yengeese have sent out their 
scouts. They have been in my wigwams, but they found 
there no one to say welcome. Then they fled to the 20 
Delawares — for, say they, the Delawares are our friends; 
their minds are turned from their Canada father.” 

This insinuation was a home thrust, and one that in 
a more advanced state of society would have entitled 
Magua to the reputation of a skilful diplomatist. The 25 
recent defection of their tribe had, as they well knew 
themselves, subjected the Delawares to much reproach 
among their French allies, and they were now made to 
feel that their future actions were to be regarded with 


520 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


jealousy and distrust. There was no deep insight into 
causes and effects necessary to foresee that such a sit¬ 
uation of things was likely to prove highly prejudicial 
to all their future movements. Their distant villages, 
5 their hunting-grounds, and hundreds of their women and 
children, together with a material part of their physical 
force, were actually within the limits of the Trench 
territory. Accordingly this alarming annunciation was 
received, as Magua intended, with manifest disapproba- 
10 tion, if not with alarm. 

“ Let my father look in my face,” said Le-coeur-dur; 
“he will see no change. It is true, my young men did 
not go out on the war-path; they had dreams for not 
doing so. But they love and venerate the great white 
15 chief.” 

“Will he think so, when he hears that his greatest 
enemy is fed in the camp of his children ? when he is 
told a bloody Yengee smokes at your fire ? that the 
pale face, who has slain so many of his friends, goes in 
20 and out among the Delawares ? Go ! my great Canada 
Bather is not a fool! ” 

“Where is the Yengee that the Delawares fear?” 
returned the other; “ who has slain my young men ? 
who is the mortal enemy of my Great Father ? ” 

25 “ La Longue Carabine.” 

The Delaware warriors started at the well-known 
name, betraying, by their amazement, that they now 
learnt for the first time that one so famous among the 
Indian allies of France was within their power. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


521 


“ What does my brother mean ? ” demanded Le-coeur- 
dur, in a tone that, by its wonder, far exceeded the usual 
apathy of his race. 

“ A Huron never lies,” returned Magua coldly, leaning 
his head against the side of the lodge, and drawing his 5 
slight robe across his tawny breast. “ Let the DelaAvares 
count their prisoners; they will find one whose skin is 
neither red nor pale.” 

A long and musing pause succeeded. The chief con¬ 
sulted apart with his companions, and messengers were 10 
despatched to collect certain others of the most distin¬ 
guished men of the tribe. 

As warrior after warrior dropped in, they were each 
made acquainted, in turn, with the important intelligence 
that Magua had just communicated. The air of surprise 15 
and the usual low, deep, guttural exclamation were 
common to them all. The news spread from mouth to 
mouth, until the whole encampment became powerfully 
agitated. The women suspended their labors to catch 
such syllables as unguardedly fell from the lips of the 20 
consulting warriors. The boys deserted their sports, 
and, walking fearlessly among their fathers, looked up 
in curious admiration, as they heard the brief exclama¬ 
tions of wonder they so freely expressed at the temerity 
of their hated foe. In short, every occupation was 25 
abandoned, for the time; and all other pursuits seemed 
discarded, in order that the tribe might freely indulge, 
after their own peculiar manner, in an open expression 
of feeling. 


522 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


When the excitement had a little abated, the old men 
disposed themselves seriously to consider that which it 
became the honor and safety of their tribe to perform 
under circumstances of so much delicacy and embarrass 
5 ment. During all these movements, and in the midst of 
the general commotion, Magua had not only maintained 
his seat, but the very attitude he had originally taken, 
against the side of the lodge, where he continued as im¬ 
movable, and, apparently, as unconcerned, as if he had 
10 no interest in the result. Not a single indication of the 
future intentions of his hosts, however, escaped his 
vigilant eyes. With his consummate knowledge of the 
nature of the people with whom he had to deal, he an¬ 
ticipated every measure on which they decided ; and it 
15 might almost be said that, in many instances, he knew 
their intentions even before they became known to 
themselves. 

The council of the Delawares was short. When it 
was ended, a general bustle announced that it was to be 
20 immediately succeeded by a solemn and formal assem¬ 
blage of the nation. As such meetings were rare, and 
only called on occasions of the last importance, the subtle 
Huron, who still sat apart, a wily and dark observer of 
the proceedings, now knew that all his projects must be 
25 brought to their final issue. He therefore left the lodge 
and walked silently forth to the place in front of the 
encampment whither the warriors were already begin¬ 
ning to collect. 

It might have been half an hour before each individ- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS ; 523 

ual, including even the women and children, was in his 
place. The delay had been created by the grave prep¬ 
arations that were deemed necessary to so solemn and 
unusual a conference. But, when the sun was seen climb¬ 
ing above the tops of that mountain, against whose bosom 
the Delawares had constructed their encampment, most 
were seated ; and as his bright rays darted from behind 
the outline of trees that fringed the eminence, they fell 
upon as grave, as attentive, and as deeply interested a 
multitude, as was probably ever before lighted by his 
morning beams. Its number somewhat exceeded a 
thousand souls. 

In a collection of such serious savages there is never 
to be found any impatient aspirant after premature dis¬ 
tinction, standing ready to move his auditors to some 
hasty, and perhaps injudicious, discussion, in order that 
his own reputation may be the gainer. An act of so 
much precipitancy and presumption, would seal the 
downfall of precocious intellect forever. It rested 
solely with the oldest and most experienced of the men 
to lay the subject of the conference before the people. 
Until such a one chose to make some movement, no 
deeds in arms, no natural gifts, nor any renown as an 
orator, would have justified the slightest interruption. 
On the present occasion the aged warrior whose privi¬ 
lege it was to speak was silent, seemingly oppressed 
with the magnitude of his subject. The delay had 
already continued long beyond the usual deliberative 
pause that always precedes a conference ; but no sign 


5 

10 

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20 

25 


524 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


of impatience or surprise escaped even the youngest boy. 
Occasionally an eye was raised from the earth, where 
the looks of most were riveted, and strayed towards a 
particular lodge, that was, however, in no manner dis- 
5 tinguished from those around it, except in the peculiar 
care that had been taken to protect it against the as¬ 
saults of the weather. 

At length one of those low murmurs that are so apt 
to disturb a multitude was heard, and the whole nation 
10 arose to. their feet by a common impulse. At that in¬ 
stant the door of the lodge in question opened, and three 
men issuing from it slowly approached the place of con¬ 
sultation. They were all aged, even beyond that period 
to which the oldest present had reached ; but one in the 
15 centre, who leaned on his companions for support, had 
numbered an amount of years to which the human race 
is seldom permitted to attain. His frame, which had 
once been tall and erect, like the cedar, was now bending 
under the pressure of more than a century. The elastic, 
20 light step of an Indian was gone, and in its place he 
was compelled to toil his tardy way over the ground 
inch by inch. His dark wrinkled countenance was in 
singular and wild contrast with the long white locks, 
which floated on his shoulders in such thickness as to 
25 announce that generations had probably passed away 
since they had last been shorn. 

The dress of this patriarch, for such, considering his 
vast age in conjunction with his affinity and influence 
with his people, he might very properly be termed, was 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


525 


rich and imposing, though strictly after the simple fash¬ 
ions of the tribe. His robe was of the finest skins, 
which had been deprived of their fur, in order to admit 
of a hieroglyphical representation of various deeds in 
arms, done in former ages. His bosom was loaded with g 
medals, some in massive silver, and one or two even in 
gold, the gifts of various Christian potentates, during 
the long period of his life. He also wore armlets and 
cinctures above the ankles, of the latter precious metal. 
His head, on the whole of which the hair had been per -10 
mitted to grow, the pursuits of war having so long been 
abandoned, was encircled by a sort of plated diadem, 
which in its turn bore lesser and more glittering orna¬ 
ments that sparkled amid the glossy hues of three droop¬ 
ing ostrich feathers, dyed a deep black, in touching 15 
contrast to the color of his snow-white locks. His toma¬ 
hawk was nearly hid in silver, and the handle of his 
knife shone like a horn of solid gold. 

So soon as the first hum of emotion and pleasure, 
which the sudden appearance of this venerated individ- 20 
ual created, had a little subsided, the naipe of “ Tame- 
nund” was whispered from mouth to mouth. Magua 
had often heard the fame of this wise and just Dela¬ 
ware ; a reputation that even proceeded so far as to 
bestow on him the rare gift of holding secret communion 25 
with the Great Spirit, and which has since transmitted his 
name, with some slight alteration, to the white usurpers 
of his ancient territory, as the imaginary, tutelar saint 1 
1 St. Tammany. 


526 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


of a vast empire. The Huron chief, therefore, stepped 
eagerly out a little from the throng, to a spot whence 
he might catch a nearer glimpse of the features of the 
man, whose decision was likely to produce so deep an 
5 influence on his own fortunes. 

The eyes of the old man were closed, as though the 
organs were wearied with having so long witnessed the 
selfish workings of the human passions. The color of 
his skin differed from that of most around him, being 
10 richer and darker ; the latter hue having been produced 
by certain delicate and mazy lines of complicated and 
yet beautiful figures which had been traced over most 
of his person by the operation of tattooing. Notwith¬ 
standing the position of the Huron, he passed the obser- 
15 vant and silent Magua without notice, and, leaning on 
his two venerable supporters, proceeded to the high 
place of the multitude, where he seated himself in the 
centre of his nation, with the dignity of a monarch and 
the air of a father. 

20 Nothing could surpass the reverence and affection with 
which this unexpected visit, from one who belonged 
rather to another world than to this, was received by 
his people. After a suitable and decent pause the prin¬ 
cipal chiefs arose, and, approaching the patriarch, they 
25 placed his hands reverently on their heads, seeming to 
entreat a blessing. The younger men were content with 
touching his robe, or even drawing nigh his person, in 
order to breathe in the atmosphere of one so aged, so 
just, and so valiant. None but the most distinguished 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


527 


among the youthful warriors even presumed so far as 
to perform the latter ceremony, the great mass of the 
multitude deeming it a sufficient happiness to look upon 
a form so deeply venerated and so well beloved. When 
these acts of affection and respect were performed, the 5 
chiefs drew back again to their several places, and 
silence reigned in the whole encampment. 

After a short delay, a few of the young men, to whom 
instructions had been whispered by one of the aged at¬ 
tendants of Tamenund, arose, left the crowd, and entered 10 
the lodge which has already been noted as the object of 
so much attention throughout that morning. In a few 
minutes they reappeared, escorting the individuals who 
had caused all these solemn preparations, towards the 
seat of judgment. The crowd opened in a lane, and 15 
when the party had re-entered it closed in again, form¬ 
ing a large and dense belt of human bodies, arranged in 
an open circle. 


528 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


CHAPTER XNlX. 

The assembly seated, rising o’er the rest, 

Achilles thus the king of men address’d. 

Pope’s Homer's Iliad. 

Cora stood foremost among the prisoners, entwining 
her arms in those of Alice, in the fondest tenderness of 
sisterly love. Notwithstanding the fearful and mena¬ 
cing array of savages on every side of her, no apprehen- 
S sion on her own account could prevent the noble-minded 
maiden from keeping her eyes fastened on the pale and 
anxious features of the trembling Alice. Close at their 
side stood Heyward, with an interest in both that, at 
such a moment of intense uncertainty, scarcely knew a 
10 preponderance in favor of her whom he most loved. 
Hawkeye had placed himself a little in the rear, with a 
deference to the superior rank of his companions, that 
no similarity in the state of their present fortunes could 
induce him to forget. Uncas "was not there. 

15 When perfect silence was again restored, and after the 
usual long, impressive pause, one of the two aged chiefs, 
who sat at the side of the patriarch, arose, and de* 
manded aloud in very intelligible English: 

“ Which of my prisoners is La Longue Carabine ? ” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


529 


Neither Duncan nor the scout answered. The former, 
however, glanced his eyes around the dark and silent 
assembly, and recoiled a pace, when they fell on the 
malignant visage of Magua. He saw at once that this 
wily savage had some secret agency in their present 
arraignment before the nation, and determined to throw 
every possible impediment in the way of the execution 
of his sinister plans. He had witnessed one instance 
of the summary punishment of the Indians, and now 
dreaded that his companion was to be selected for a 
second. In this dilemma, with little or no time for re¬ 
flection, he suddenly determined to cloak his invaluable 
friend at any or every hazard to himself. Before he 
had time, however, to speak, the question was repeated 
in a louder voice and with a clearer utterance. 

“ Give us arms,” the young man haughtily replied, 
“ and place us in yonder woods. Our deeds shall speak 
for us.” 

“ This is the warrior whose name has filled our ears,” 
returned the chief, regarding Heyward with that sort 
of curious interest, which seems inseparable from man, 
when first beholding one of his fellows, to whom merit 
or accident, virtue or crime, has given notoriety. “ What 
has brought the white man into the camp of the Dela¬ 
wares ? ” 

“ My necessities. I come for food, shelter, and 
friends.” 

“ It cannot be. The woods are full of game. The 
head of a warrior needs no other shelter than a sky 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


530 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPEB. 


without clouds, and the Delawares are the enemies, and 
not the friends, of the Yengeese. Go ! the mouth has 
spoken, while your heart has said nothing.” 

Duncan, a little at a loss in what manner to proceed, 
5 remained silent; but the scout, who had listened atten¬ 
tively to all that passed, now advanced steadily to the 
front. 

“ That I did not answer to the call for La Longue 
Carabine was not owing either to shame or fear,” he 
10 said ; “ for neither one nor the other is the gift of an 
honest man. But I do not admit the right of the 
Mingos to bestow a name on one, whose friends have 
been mindful of his gifts in this particular; especially 
as their title is a lie; ‘ Kill-deer ’ being a grooved barrel 
15 and no carabyne. I am the man, however, that got the 
name of Nathaniel from my kin; the compliment of 
Hawkeye from the Delawares, who live on their own 
river; and whom the Iroquois have presumed to style 
the ‘ Long Rifle,’ without any warranty from him who 
20 is most concerned in the matter.” 

The eyes of all present, which had hitherto been 
gravely scanning the person of Duncan, were now turned 
on the instant towards the upright, iron frame of this 
new pretender to the distinguished appellation. It was 
25 in no degree remarkable that there should be found 
two who were willing to claim so great an honor, for 
impostors, though rare, were not unknown among the 
natives; but it was altogether material to the just and 
severe intentions of the Delawares that there should be 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


531 


no mistake in the matter. Some of the old men con¬ 
sulted together in private and then, as it would seem, 
they determined to interrogate their visitor on the 
subject. 

“My brother has said that a snake crept into my 5 
camp,” said the chief to Magua; “ which is he ? ” 

The Huron pointed to the scout. 

“Will a wise Delaware believe the barking of a 
wolf ? ” exclaimed Duncan, still more confirmed in the 
evil intentions of his ancient enemy; “ a dog never lies, 10 
but when was a wolf known to speak the truth ? ” 

The eyes of Magua flashed fire ; but suddenly recol¬ 
lecting the necessity of maintaining his presence of 
mind, he turned away in silent disdain, well assured 
that the sagacity of the Indians would not fail to extract 15 
the real merits of the point in controversy. He was 
not deceived; for, after another short consultation, the 
wary Delaware turned to him again and expressed the 
determination of the chiefs, though in the most consid¬ 
erate language. 20 

“ My brother has been called a liar,” he said, “ and 
his friends are angry. They will show that he has 
spoken the truth. Give my prisoners guns, and let 
them prove which is the man.” 

Magua affected to consider the expedient, which he 25 
well knew proceeded from distrust of himself, as a com¬ 
pliment, and made a gesture of acquiescence, well con¬ 
tent that his veracity should be supported by so skilful 
a marksman as the scout. The weapons were instantly 


532 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


placed in the hands of the friendly opponents, and they 
were bid to fire over the heads of the seated multitude 
at an earthen vessel, which lay by accident on a stump 
some fifty yards from the place where they stood. 

5 Heyward smiled to himself, at the idea of such a com 
petition with the scout, though he determined to perse¬ 
vere in the deception, until apprised of the real designs 
of Magua. Raising his rifle with the utmost care, and 
renewing his aim three several times, he fired. The 
10 bullet cut the wood within a few inches of the vessel, 
and a general exclamation of satisfaction announced 
that the shot was considered a proof of great skill in 
the use of the weapon. Even Hawkeye nodded his head, 
as if he would say it was better than he had expected. 
15 But, instead of manifesting an intention to contend with 
the successful marksman, he stood leaning on his rifle 
for more than a minute, like a man who was completely 
buried in thought. From this revery he was, however, 
awakened by one of the young Indians who had fur- 
20 nished the arms, and who now touched his shoulder, 
saying, in exceedingly broken English: 

“ Can the pale face beat it ? ” 

“ Yes, Huron ! ” exclaimed the scout, raising the short 
rifle in his right hand, and shaking it at Magua, with as 
25 much apparent ease as if it were a reed; u yes, Huron, 
I could strike you now, and no power of ? arth could pre¬ 
vent the deed! The soaring hawk is not more certain 
of the dove than I am this moment of you, did I choose 
to send a bullet to your heart! Why should I not ? 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


533 


Why!—because the gifts of my color forbid it, and I 
might draw down evil on tender and innocent heads. If 
you know such a being as God, thank him, therefore, in 
your inward soul; for you have reason ! ” 

The flushed countenance, angry eye, and swelling fig¬ 
ure of the scout produced a sensation of secret awe in 
all that heard him. The Delawares held their breath 
in expectation; but Magua himself, even while he dis¬ 
trusted the forbearance of his enemy, Remained immov¬ 
able and calm, where he stood wedged in fly the crowd, 
as one who grew to the spot. 

“ Beat it,” repeated the young Delaware at the elbow 
of the scout. 

“ Beat what ? fool! — what ? ” exclaimed Hawkeye, 
still flourishing the weapon angrily above his head, 
though his eye no longer sought the person of Magua. 

“ If the white man is the warrior he pretends,” said 
the aged chief, “ let him strike nigher to the mark.” 

The scout laughed aloud — a noise that produced the 
startling effect of an unnatural sound on Heyward — 
then dropping the piece heavily into his extended left 
hand, it was discharged, apparently by the shock, driv¬ 
ing the fragments of the vessel into the air and scatter¬ 
ing them on every side. Almost at the same instant 
the rattling sound of the rifle was heard, as he suffered 
it to fall contemptuously to the earth. 

The first impression of so strange a scene was engross¬ 
ing admiration. Then a low but increasing murmur 
ran through the multitude, and finally swelled into 


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534 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


sounds that denoted lively opposition in the sentiments 
of the spectators. While some openly testified their 
satisfaction at such unexampled dexterity, by far the 
larger portion of the tribe were inclined to believe the 
5 success of the shot was the result of accident. Hey¬ 
ward was not slow to confirm an opinion that was so 
favorable to his own pretensions. 

“ It was chance! ” he exclaimed ; “ none can shoot 
without an aim I ” 

10 “ Chance! ” echoed the excited woodsman, who was 

now stubbornly bent on maintaining his identity at every 
hazard, and on whom the secret hints of Heyward to 
acquiesce in the deception were entirely lost. “Does 
yonder lying Huron, too, think it chance ? Give him 
15 another gun, and place us face to face, without cover or 
dodge, and let Providence and our own eyes decide the 
matter atween us ! I do not make the offer to you, 
major; for our blood is of a color, and we serve the 
same master.” 

20 “That the Huron is a liar is very evident,” returned 
Heyward, coolly; “ you have yourself heard him assert 
you to be La Longue Carabine.” 

It were impossible to say what violent assertion the 
stubborn Hawkeye would have next made in his head- 
25 long wish to vindicate his identity, had not the aged 
Delaware once more interposed. 

“The hawk which comes from the clouds can return 
when he will,” l^e said; “ give them the guns.” 

This time the scout seized the rifle with avidity; nor 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


535 


had Magua, though he watched the movement of the 
marksman with jealous eyes, any further cause for ap¬ 
prehension. 

“ Now let it be proved, in the face of this tribe of 
Delawares, who is the better man,” cried the scout, tap¬ 
ping the butt of his piece with that finger which had 
pulled so many fatal triggers. “ You see the gourd 
hanging against yonder tree, major; if you are a marks¬ 
man fit for the borders, let me see if you can break its 
shell.” 

Duncan noted the object and prepared himself to re¬ 
new the trial. The gourd was one of the usual little 
vessels used by the Indians and was suspended from a 
dead branch of a small pine, by a tholig of deerskin, 
at the full distance of a hundred yards. So strangely 
compounded is the feeling of self-love, that the young 
soldier, while he knew the utter worthlessness of the 
suffrages of his savage umpires, forgot the sudden mo¬ 
tives of the contest, in a wish to excel. It has been seen 
already that his skill was far from being contemptible, 
and he now resolved to put forth its nicest qualities. 
Had his life depended on the issue, the aim of Duncan 
could not have been more deliberate and guarded. He 
fired; and three or four young Indians, who sprang for¬ 
ward at the report, announced with a shout, that the 
ball was in the tree, a very little on one side of the 
proper object. The warriors uttered a common ejacula¬ 
tion of pleasure, and then turned their eyes inquiringly 
on the movements of his rival. 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ It may do for the Eoyal Americans,” said Hawkeye, 
laughing once more in his own silent, heartfelt manner ; 
“but had my gun often turned so much from the true 
line, many a marten whose skin is now in a lady’s muff 
5 would now be in the woods; ay, and many a bloody 
Mingo, who has departed to his final account, would be 
acting his deviltries at this very day atween the prov¬ 
inces. I hope the squaw who owns the gourd has more 
of them in her Wigwam, for this will never hold water 
10 again.” 

The scout had shook his priming and cocked his piece 
while speaking; and, as he ended, he threw back a foot, 
and slowly raised the muzzle from the earth: the motion 
was steady, uniform, and in one direction. When on a 
15 perfect level, it remained for a single moment, without 
tremor or variation, as though both man and rifle were 
carved in stone. During that stationary instant, it 
poured forth its contents in a bright glancing sheet of 
flame. Again the young Indians bounded forward, but 
20 their hurried search and disappointed looks announced 
that no traces of the bullet were to be seen. 

“ Go! ” said the old chief to the scout, in a tone of 
strong disgust; “ thou art a wolf in the skin of a dog, 
I will talk to the ‘Long Eifle’ of the Yengeese.” 

25 “ Ah ! had I that piece which furnished the name you 

use, I would obligate myself to cut the thong and drop 
the gourd, without breaking it!” returned Hawkeye, 
perfectly undisturbed by the other’s manner. “ Fools, 
if you would find the bullet of a sharpshooter of these 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


531 


woods, you must look in the object and not around 
it!” 

The Indian youths instantly comprehended his mean¬ 
ing — for this time he spoke in the Delaware tongue —- 
and, tearing the gourd from the tree, they held it on l 
high, with an exulting shout, displaying a hole in its 
bottom, which had been cut by the bullet, after passing 
through the usual orifice in the centre of its upper side. 
At this unexpected exhibition, a loud and vehement ex¬ 
pression of pleasure burst from the mouth of every war- 10 
rior present. It decided the question and effectually 
established Hawkeye in the possession of his dangerous 
reputation. Those curious and admiring eyes which 
had been turned again on Heyward were finally directed 
to the weather-beaten form of the scout, who immedi-15 
ately became the principal object of attention to the 
simple and unsophisticated beings by whom he was sur¬ 
rounded. When the sudden and noisy commotion had a 
little subsided, the aged chief resumed his examination. 

“ Why did you wish to stop my ears ? ” he said, ad- 2G 
dressing Duncan ; “ are the Delawares fools, that they 
could not know the young panther from the cat ? ” 

“They will yet find the Huron a singing-bird,” said 
Duncan, endeavoring to adopt the figurative language of 
the natives. 25 

“ It is good. We will know who can shut the ears 
of men. Brother,” added the chief, turning his eyes on 
Magua, “ the Delawares listen.” 

Thus singled, and directly called on to declare his 


588 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


object, the Huron arose, and advancing with great de¬ 
liberation and dignity into the very centre of the circle, 
where he stood confronted to the prisoners, he placed 
himself in an attitude to speak. Before opening his 
5 mouth, however, he bent his eyes slowly along the whole 
living boundary of earnest faces, as if to temper his ex¬ 
pressions to the capacities of his audience. On Hawkeye 
he cast a glance of respectful enmity; on Duncan, a look 
of inextinguishable hatred ; the shrinking figure of Alice, 
10 he scarcely deigned to notice; but when his glance met 
the firm, commanding, and yet lovely form of Cora, his 
eye lingered a moment, with an expression that it might 
have been difficult to define. Then, filled with his own 
dark intentions, he spoke in the language of the Canadas, 
15 a tongue that he well knew was comprehended by most 
of his auditors. 

“ The Spirit that made men, colored them differently/’ 
commenced the subtle Huron. “ Some are blacker than 
the sluggish bear. These he said should be slaves; and 
20 he ordered them to work forever, like the beaver. You 
may hear them groan, when the south wind blows, louder 
than the lowing buffaloes, along the shores of the great 
salt lake, where the big canoes come and go with them 
in droves. Some he made with faces paler than the 
25 ermine of the forests: and these he ordered to be 
traders ; dogs to their women and wolves to their slaves. 
He gave this people the nature of the pigeon ; wings that 
never tire; young, more plentiful than the leaves on the 
trees, and appetites to devour the earth. He gave them 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


539 


tongues like the false call of the wild-cat, hearts like rab¬ 
bits, the cunning of the hog (but none of the fox), and 
arms longer than the legs of the moose. With his 
tongue he stops the ears of the Indians; his heart 
teaches him to pay warriors to fight his battles ; his 
cunning tells him how to get together the goods of the 
earth; and his arms enclose the land from the shores of 
the salt water to the islands of the great lake. His 
gluttony makes him sick. God gave him enough, and 
yet he wants all. Such are the pale faces. 

“ Some the Great Spirit made with skins brighter and 
redder than yonder sun,” continued Magua, pointing im¬ 
pressively upwards to the lurid luminary, which was 
struggling through the misty atmosphere of the horizon ; 
“ and these did he fashion to his own mind. He gave 
them this island as he had made it, covered with trees 
and filled with game. The wind made their clearings; 
the sun and rains ripened their fruits ; and the snows 
came to tell them to be thankful. What need had they 
of roads to journey by ? They saw through the hills ! 
When the beavers worked, they lay in the shade and 
looked on. The winds cooled them in summer; in win¬ 
ter, skins kept them warm. If they fought among them¬ 
selves, it was to prove that they were men. They were 
brave; they were just; they were happy.” 

Here the speaker paused and again looked around 
him, to discover if his legend had touched the sympa¬ 
thies of his listeners. He met everywhere with eyes 
riveted on his own, heads erect, and nostrils expanded. 


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20 

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540 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


as if each individual present felt himself able and will¬ 
ing, singly, to redress the wrongs of his race. 

“ If the Great Spirit gave different tongues to his red 
children/’ he continued, in a low, still, melancholy voice, 
i “ it was that all animals might understand them. Some 
he placed among the snows with their cousin the bear. 
Some he placed near the setting sun on the road to the 
happy hunting-grounds. Some on the lands around the 
great fresh waters; but to his greatest and most beloved 
10 he gave the sands of the salt lake. Do my brothers 
know the name of this favored people ? ” 

“ It was the Lenape !” exclaimed twenty eager voices 
in a breath. 

“ It was the Lenni Lenape,” returned Magua, affect- 
15 ing to bend his head in reverence to their former great¬ 
ness. “ It was the tribes of the Lenape ! The sun rose 
from the water that was salt, and set in water that was 
sweet, and never hid himself from their eyes. But why 
should I, a Huron of the woods, tell a wise people their 
20 own traditions ? Why remind them of their injuries, 
their ancient greatness, their deeds, their glory, their 
happiness — their losses, their defeats, their misery ? Is 
there not one among them who has seen it all, and who 
knows it to be true ? I have done. My tongue is still, 
25 for my heart is of lead. I listen.” 

As the voice of the speaker suddenly ceased, every 
face and all eyes turned, by a common movement, to 
wards the venerable Tamenund. From the moment 
that he took his seat until the present instant, the lips 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


541 


of the patriarch had not severed, and scarcely a sign of 
life had escaped him. He sat bent in feebleness, and 
apparently unconscious of the presence he was in, dur¬ 
ing the whole of that opening scene, in which the skill 
of the scout had been so clearly established. At the I 
nicely graduated sound of Magua’s voice, however, he 
betrayed some evidence of consciousness, and once or 
twice he even raised his head as if to listen. But when 
the crafty Huron spoke of his nation by name, the eye¬ 
lids of the old man raised themselves, and he looked out 10 
upon the multitude with that sort of dull, unmeaning 
expression, which might be supposed to belong to the 
countenance of a spectre. Then he made an effort to 
rise, and, being upheld by his supporters, he gained his 
feet, in a posture commanding by its dignity, while he 15 
tottered with weakness. 

“ Who calls upon the children of the Lenape ? ” he 
said, in a deep, guttural voice, that was rendered awfully 
audible by the breathless silence of the multitude ; “ who 
speaks of things gone ? Does not the egg become a worm 20 
— the worm a fly — and perish ? Why tell the Dela¬ 
wares of good that is past ? Better thank the Manitou 
for that which remains.” 

■“It is a Wyandot,” said Magua, stepping nigher to 
the rude platform on which the other stood, u a friend 25 
of Tamenund.” 

“ A friend ! ” repeated the sage, on whose brow a 
dark frown settled, imparting a portion of that severity, 
which had rendered his eye so terrible in middle age. 


542 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ Are the Mingos rulers of the earth ? What brings a 
Huron here ? ” 

“ Justice. His prisoners are with his brothers, and 
he comes for his own” 

5 Tamenund turned his head towards one of his sup¬ 
porters, and listened to the short explanation the man 
gave. Then, facing the applicant, he regarded him a 
moment with deep attention ; after which he said in 
a low and reluctant voice : 

10 “ Justice is the law of the Great Manitou. My chil¬ 

dren, give the stranger food. Then, Huron, take thine 
own and depart. 5 ’ 

On the delivery of this solemn judgment, the patri¬ 
arch seated himself and closed his eyes again, as if 
15 better pleased with the images of his own ripened ex¬ 
perience than with the visible objects of the world. 
Against such a decree, there was no Delaware suffici¬ 
ently hardy to murmur, much less oppose himself. The 
words were barely uttered, when four or five of the 
20 younger warriors, stepping behind Heyward and the 
scout, passed thongs so dexterously and rapidly around 
their arms, as to hold them both in instant bondage. 
The former was too much engrossed with his precious 
and nearly insensible burden to be aware of their in- 
25 tentions before they were executed; and the latter, 
who considered even the hostile tribes of the Dela¬ 
wares a superior race of beings, submitted without re¬ 
sistance. Perhaps, however, the manner of the scout 
would not have been so passive, had he fully compre- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


543 


hended the language in which the preceding dialogue 
had been conducted. 

Magua cast a look of triumph around the whole as¬ 
sembly before he proceeded to the execution of his pur¬ 
pose. Perceiving that the men were unable to offer any 
resistance, he turned his looks on her he valued most. 
Cora met his gaze with an eye so calm and firm that 
his resolution wavered. Then, recollecting his former 
artifice, he raised Alice from the arms of the warrior, 
against whom she leaned, and beckoning Heyward to 
follow, he motioned for the encircling crowd to open. 
But Cora, instead of obeying the impulse he had ex¬ 
pected, rushed to the feet of the patriarch, and raising 
her voice, exclaimed aloud : 

“Just and venerable Delaware, on thy wisdom and 
power we lean for mercy ! Be deaf to yonder artful and 
remorseless monster, who poisons thy ears with false¬ 
hoods, to feed his thirst for blood. Thou, that hast 
lived long, and that hast seen the evil of the world, 
should know how to temper its calamities to the mis¬ 
erable.” 

The eyes of the old man opened heavily, and he once 
more looked upward at the multitude. As the piercing 
tones of the supplicant swelled on his ears, they moved 
slowly in the direction of her person, and finally settled 
there in a steady gaze. Cora had cast herself to her 
knees, and, with hands clinched in each other and 
pressed upon her bosom, she remained like a beauteous 
and breathing model of her sex, looking up in his faded 


5 

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15 

W 

25 


544 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER. 


but majestic countenance with a species of holy rever- 
ence. Gradually the expression of Tamenund’s features 
changed, and losing their vacancy in admiration, they 
lighted with a portion of that intelligence which a cen- 
5 tury before had been wont to communicate his youthful 
fire to the extensive bands of the Delawares. Rising 
without assistance, and seemingly without an effort, he 
demanded, in a voice that startled its auditors by its 
firmness: 

10 “ What art thou ? ” 

“A woman. One of a hated race, if thou wilt—a 
Yengee. But one who has never harmed thee, and who 
cannot harm thy people, if she would; who asks for 
succor.” 

15 “ Tell me, my children,” continued the patriarch 

hoarsely, motioning to those around him, though his 
eyes still dwelt upon the kneeling form of Cora, “ where 
have the Delawares camped ? ” 

“ In the mountains of the Iroquois ; beyond the clear 
20 springs of the Horican.” 

“Many parching summers are come and gone,” con¬ 
tinued the sage, “ since I drank of the waters of my own 
rivers. The children of Minquon are the justest white 
men; but they were thirsty, and they took it to them- 
25 selves. Do they follow us so far ? ” 

“We follow none ; we covet nothing,” answered Cora. 
“ Captives against our wills have we been brought 
among you; and we ask but permission to depart to 
our own in peace. Art thou not Tamenund — the father, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


545 


the judge, I had almost said, the prophet — of this peo¬ 
ple ? ” 

“ I am Tamenund of many days.” 

“’Tis now some seven years that one of thy people 
was at the mercy of a white chief on the borders of this 5 
province. He claimed to be of the blood of the good 
and just Tamenund. ‘ Go/ said the white man, ‘for 
thy parent’s sake, thou art free.’ Dost thou remember 
the name of that English warrior ? ” 

“ I remember that when a laughing boy,” returned the 10 
patriarch, with the peculiar recollection of vast age, “ I 
stood upon the sands of the sea-shore and saw a big 
canoe, with wings whiter than the swan’s and wider 
than many eagles’, come from the rising sun — ” 

“Nay, nay; I speak not of a time so very distant; 15 
but of favor shown to thy kindred by one of mine 
within the memory of thy youngest warrior.” 

“ Was it when the Yengeese and the Dutchemanne 
fought for the hunting-grounds of the Delawares ? Then 
Tamenund was a chief, and first laid aside the bow for 20 
the lightning of the pale faces — ” 

“Nor yet then,” interrupted Cora, “by many ages; I 
speak of a thing of yesterday. Surely, surely, you for¬ 
get it not! ” 

“ It was but yesterday,” rejoined the aged man, with 25 
■couching pathos, “ that the children of the Lenape were 
masters of the world. The fishes of the salt lake, the 
birds, the beasts,, and the Mengwe of the woods, owned 
them for Sagamores.” 


546 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Cora bowed her head in disappointment, and for a 
bitter moment struggled with her chagrin. Then ele¬ 
vating her rich features and beaming eyes, she continued, 
in tones scarcely less penetrating than the unearthly 
5 voice of the patriarch himself : 

“ Tell me, is Tamenund a father ? ” 

The old man looked down upon her from his elevated 
stand, with a benignant smile on his wasted countenance, 
and then casting his eyes slowly over the whole assem- 
10 blage, he answered : 

“ Of a nation.” 

“ For myself I ask nothing. Like thee and thine, ven¬ 
erable chief,” she continued, pressing her hands convul¬ 
sively on her heart, and suffering her head to droop until 
15 her burning cheeks were nearly concealed in the maze of 
dark, glossy tresses, that fell in disorder upon her shoul¬ 
ders, “ the curse of my ancestors has fallen heavily on 
their child. But yonder is one, who has never known 
the weight of Heaven’s displeasure until now. She is 
20 the daughter of an old and failing man, whose days are 
near their close. She has many, very many, to love her 
and delight in her; and she is too good, much too pre¬ 
cious, to become the victim of that villain.” 

“ I know that the pale faces are a proud and hungry 
25 race. I know that they claim, not only to have the earth, 
but that the meanest of their color is better than the 
Sachems of the red man. The dogs and crows of their 
tribes,” continued the earnest old chieftain, without heed¬ 
ing the wounded spirit of his listener, whose head was 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 547 

nearly crushed to the earth in shame, as he proceeded, 
u would bark and caw, before they would take a woman 
to their wigwams, whose blood was not of the color of 
snow. But let them not boast before the face of the 
Manitou too loud. They entered the land at the rising, 
and may yet go off at the setting sun. I have often 
seen the locusts strip the leaves from the trees, but the 
season of blossoms has always come again.” 

“ It is so,” said Cora, drawing a long breath as if re¬ 
viving from a trance, raising her face, and shaking back 
her shining veil with a kindling eye, that contradicted 
the death-like paleness of her countenance ; “ but why — 
it is not permitted us to inquire. There is yet one of 
thine own people, who has not been brought before thee ; 
before thou lettest the Huron depart in triumph, hear 
him speak.” 

Observing Tamenund to look about him doubtingly, 
one of his companions said : 

“ It is a snake — a redskin in the pay of the Yengeese. 
We keep him for the torture.” 

“ Let him come,” returned the sage. 

Then Tamenund once more sank into his seat and a 
silence so deep prevailed, while the young men prepared 
to obey his simple mandate, that the leaves, which flut¬ 
tered in the draught of the light morning air, were dis¬ 
tinctly heard rustling in the surrounding forest. 


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548 


JAMES FEN1M0RE COOPER . 


CHAPTER XXX. 

If you deny me, fie upon your law ! 

There is no force in the decrees of Venice. 

I stand for judgment: answer, shall I have it ? 

Shakspeare, Merchant of Venice . 

The silence continued unbroken by human sounds for 
many anxious minutes. Then the waving multitude 
opened and shut again, and Uncas stood environed by 
the living circle. All those eyes, which had been curi- 
5 ously studying the lineaments of the sage as the source 
of their own intelligence, turned, on the instant, and 
were now bent in secret admiration on the erect, agile, 
and faultless person of the captive. But neither the 
presence in which he found himself, nor the exclusive 
10 attention that he attracted, in any manner disturbed the 
self-possession of the young Mohican. He cast a delib¬ 
erate and observing look on every side of him, meeting 
the settled expression of hostility, that lowered in the 
visages of the chiefs, with the same calmness as the 
15 curious gaze of the attentive children. But when, last 
in his haughty scrutiny, the person of Tamenund came 
under his glance, his eye became fixed, as though all 
other objects were already forgotten. Then advancing 
with a slow and noiseless step, up the area, he placed 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


549 


himself immediately before the footstool of the sage. 
Here he stood unnoted, though keenly observant him¬ 
self, until one of the chiefs apprised the latter of his 
presence. 

“With what tongue does the prisoner speak to the 
Manitou ? ” demanded the patriarch, without unclosing 
his eyes. 

“Like his fathers,” Uncas replied ; “ with the tongue 
of a Delaware.” 

At this sudden and unexpected annunciation, a low, 
fierce yell ran through the multitude, that might not in¬ 
aptly be compared to the growl of the lion as his choler 
is first awakened —a fearful omen of the weight of his 
future anger. The effect was equally strong on the 
sage, though differently exhibited. He passed a hand 
before his eyes, as if to exclude the least evidence of so 
shameful a spectacle, while he repeated in his low and 
deeply guttural tones the words he had just heard. 

“ A Delaware ! I have lived to see the tribes of the 
Lenape driven from their council fires, and scattered, 
like broken herds of deer, among the hills of the Iroquois! 
I have seen the hatchets of a strange people sweep 
woods from the valleys, that the winds of heaven had 
spared! The beasts that run on the mountains and the 
birds that fly above the trees have I seen living in the 
wigwams of men ; but never before have I found a Del¬ 
aware so base as to creep, like a poisonous serpent, into 
the camps of his nation.” 

“ The singing-birds have opened their bills,” returned 


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550 


JAMES FENIMOEE COOPER. 


Uncas, in the softest notes of his own musical voice; 
“ and Tamenund has heard their song.” 

The sage started, and bent his head aside, as if to 
catch the fleeting sounds of some passing melody. 

5 “ Does Tamenund dream ? ” he exclaimed. “ What 

voice is at his ear ? Have the winters gone back¬ 
ward ? Will summer come again to the children of the 
Lenape ?” 

A solemn and respectful silence succeeded this inco- 
10 herent burst from the lips of the Delaware prophet. His 
people readily construed his unintelligible language into 
one of those mysterious conferences he was believed to 
hold so frequently with a superior intelligence, and they 
awaited the issue of the revelation in awe. After a 
15 patient pause, however, one of the aged men perceiving 
that the sage had lost the recollection of the subject 
before them, ventured to remind him again of the pres¬ 
ence of the prisoner. 

“ The false Delaware trembles lest he should hear the 
20 words of Tamenund,” he said. “ ’Tis a hound that 
howls, when the Yengeese show him a trail.” 

“And ye,” returned Uncas, looking sternly around 
him, “are dogs that whine when the Frenchman casts 
ye the offals of his deer! ” 

25 Twenty knives gleamed in the air, and as many war¬ 
riors sprang to their feet, at this biting and perhaps 
merited retort; but a motion from one of the chiefs sup¬ 
pressed the outbreaking of their tempers, and restored 
the appearance of quiet. The task might probabty have 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS, 


551 


been more difficult, had not a movement made by Tame- 
nund indicated that he was again about to speak. 

“ Delaware,” resumed the sage, “ little art thou worthy 
of thy name. My people have not seen a bright sun in 
many winters; and the warrior who deserts his tribe 5 
when hid in clouds is doubly a traitor. The law of the 
Manitou is just. It is so; while the rivers run and the 
mountains stand, while the blossoms come and go on 
the trees, it must be so. He is thine, my children, deal 
justly by him.” 10 

Hot a limb was moved, nor was a breath drawn louder 
and longer than common, until the closing syllable of 
this final decree had passed the lips of Tamenund. Then 
a cry of vengeance burst at once, as it might be, from 
the united lips of the nation, a frightful augury of their 15 
ruthless intentions. In the midst of these prolonged 
and savage yells, a chief proclaimed, in a high voice, 
that the captive was condemned to endure the dreadful 
trial of torture by fire. The circle broke its order, and 
screams of delight mingled with the bustle and tumult 20 
of preparation. Heyward struggled madly with his cap- 
tors ; the anxious eyes of Hawkeye began to look around 
him, with an expression of peculiar earnestness; and 
Cora again threw herself at the feet of the patriarch, 
once more a suppliant for mercy. 25 

Throughout the whole of these trying moments, Uncas 
had alone preserved his serenity. He looked on the 
preparations with a steady eye, and when the tormentors 
came to seize him, he met them with a firm and upright 


552 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


attitude. One among them, if possible more fierce and 
savage than his fellows, seized the hunting-shirt of the 
young warrior, and at a single effort tore it from his 
body. Then, with a yell of frantic pleasure, he leaped 
5 toward his unresisting victim and prepared to lead him 
to the stake. But at that moment, when he appeared 
most a stranger to the feelings of humanity, the purpose 
of the savage was arrested as suddenly, as if a super¬ 
natural agency had interposed in the behalf of Uncas. 
10 The eye-balls of the Delaware seemed to start from their 
sockets; his mouth opened, and his whole form became 
frozen in an attitude of amazement. Raising his hand 
with a slow and regulated motion, he pointed with a 
finger to the bosom of the captive. His companions 
15 crowded about him in wonder, and every eye was, like 
his own, fastened intently on the figure of a small tor¬ 
toise, beautifully tattooed on the breast of the prisoner 
in a bright blue tint. 

For a single instant Uncas enjoyed his triumph, smil- 
20 ing calmly on the scene. Then motioning the crowd 
away, with a high and haughty sweep of his arm, he ad¬ 
vanced in front of the nation with the air of a king, and 
spoke in a voice louder than the murmur of admiration 
that ran through the multitude. 

25 “ Men of the Lenni Lenape ! ” he said, “ my race up¬ 

holds the earth ! Your feeble tribe stands on my shell! 
What fire that a Delaware can light would burn the 
child of my fathers ? ” he added, pointing proudly to 
the simple blazonry on his skin ; “ the blood that came 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


553 


from such a stock would smother your flames ! My race 
is the grandfather of nations ! ” 

“ Who art thou ? ” demanded Tamenund, rising, at the 
startling tones he heard, more than at any meaning con¬ 
veyed by the language of the prisoner. 

“ Uncas, the son of Chingachgook,” answered the cap¬ 
tive, modestly, turning from the nation, and bending his 
head in reverence to the other’s character and years; 
“ a son of the Great Unamis.” 

“ The hour of Tamenund is nigh ! ” exclaimed the sage ; 
“ the day is come, at last, to the night! I thank the 
Manitou, that one is here to fill my place at the council 
fire. Uncas, the child of Uncas, is found ! Let the eyes 
of a dying eagle gaze on the rising sun.” 

The youth stepped lightly, but proudly, on the plat¬ 
form, where he became visible to the whole agitated and 
wondering multitude. Tamenund held him long at the 
length of his arm, and read every turn in the fine linea¬ 
ments of his countenance, with the untiring gaze of one 
who recalled the days of happiness. 

“ Is Tamenund a boy ? ” at length the bewildered 
prophet exclaimed. “ Have I dreamt of so many snows 
'—that my people were scattered like floating sands — 
of Yengeese, more plenty than the leaves on the trees? 
The arrow of Tamenund would not frighten the fawn; 
his arm is withered like the branch of a dead oak; the 
snail would be swifter in the race; yet is Uncas before 
him, as they went to battle against the pale faces! 
Uncas, the panther of his tribe, the eldest son of the 


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JAMES FENIMOEE COOPEE. 


Lenape, the wisest Sagamore of the Mohicans ! Tell me* 
ye Delawares, has Tamennnd been a sleeper for a hun¬ 
dred winters ? 77 

The calm and deep silence which succeeded these 
5 words sufficiently announced the awful reverence with 
which his people received the communication of the pa¬ 
triarch. None dared to answer, though all listened in 
breathless expectation of what might follow. Uncas, 
however, looking in his face with the fondness and vene- 
10 ration of a favored child, presumed on his own high and 
acknowledged rank to reply. 

“ Four warriors of his race have lived and died/ 7 he 
said, “ since the friend of Tamenund led his people in 
battle. The blood of the Turtle has been in many 
15 chiefs, but all have gone back into the earth from whence 
they came, except Chingachgook and his son. 77 

“It is true — it is true, 77 returned the sage ; a flash 
of recollection destroying all his pleasing fancies, and 
restoring him at once to a consciousness of the true his- 
20 tory of his nation. “ Our wise men have often said that 
two warriors of the ‘unchanged 7 race were in the hills 
of the Yengeese; why have their seats at the council 
fires of the Delaware been so long empty ? 77 

At these words the young man raised his head, which 
25 he had still kept bowed a little in reverence, and lifting 
his voice, so as to be heard by the multitude, as if to 
explain at once and forever the policy of his family he 
said aloud: 

“Once we slept where we could hear the salt lake 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


555 


speak in its anger. Then we were rulers and Sagamores 
over the land. But when a pale face was seen on every 
brook, we followed the deer back to the river of our 
nation. The Delawares were gone. Few warriors of 
them all stayed to drink of the stream they loved. Then t 
said my fathers, ‘Here we will hunt. The waters of 
the river go into the salt lake. If we go towards the 
setting sun, we shall find streams that run into the 
great lakes of sweet water; there would a Mohican die, 
like fishes of the sea in the clear springs. When the 10 
Manitou is ready, and shall say, “ Come,” we will follow 
the river to the sea, and take our own again/ Such, 
Delawares, is the belief of the children of the Turtle. 
Our eyes are on the rising, and not towards the setting 
sun. We know whence he comes, but we know not is 
whither he goes. It is enough.” 

The men of the Lenape listened to his words with all 
the respect that superstition could lend, finding a secret 
charm even in the figurative language with which the 
young Sagamore imparted his ideas. Uncas himself 20 
watched the effect of his brief explanation with intelli¬ 
gent eyes, and gradually dropped the air of authority he 
had assumed, as he perceived that his auditors were 
content. Then, permitting his looks to wander over the 
silent throng that crowded around the elevated seat of 23 
Tamenund, he first perceived Hawkeye in his bonds. 
Stepping eagerly from his stand, he made a way for 
himself to the side of his friend, and cutting his thongs 
with a quick and angry stroke of his own knife, he 


556 


JAMES FEEIMORE COOPER. 


motioned to the crowd to divide. The Indians silently 
obeyed, and once more they stood ranged in their circle, 
as before his appearance among them. Uncas took the 
scout by the hand, and led him to the feet of the 
5 patriarch. 

“Father,” he said, “look at this pale face; a just 
man, and the friend of the Delawares.” 

“ Is he a son of Minquon ? ” 

“Not so; a warrior known to the Yengeese, and 
10 feared by the Maquas.” 

“ What name has he gained by his deeds ? ” 

“We call him Hawkeye,” Uncas replied, using the 
Delaware phrase; “ for his sight never fails. The 
Mingos know him better by the death he gives their 
15 warriors; with them he is The Long Rifle.” 

“ La Longue Carabine ! ” exclaimed Tamenund, open¬ 
ing his eyes and regarding the scout sternly. “My son 
has not done well to call him friend.” 

“ I call him so who proves himself such,” returned 
20 the young chief, with great calmness but with a steady 
mien. “ If Uncas is welcome among the Delawares, 
then is Hawkeye with his friends.” 

“The pale face has slain my young men ; his name is 
great for the blows he has struck the Lenape.” 

25 “ If a Mingo has whispered that much in the ear of the 

Delaware, he has only shown that he is a singing-bird,” 
said the scout, who now believed it was time to vindi¬ 
cate himself from such offensive charges, and who spoke 
in the tongue of the man he addressed, modifying his 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


557 


Indian figures, however, with his own peculiar notions. 

“ That I have slain the Maquas, I am not the man to 
deny, even at their own council fires ; but that, know¬ 
ingly, my hand has ever harmed a Delaware is opposed 
to the reason of my gifts, which is friendly to them, 5 
and all that belongs to their nation.” 

A low exclamation of applause passed among the war¬ 
riors, who exchanged looks with each other like men 
that first began to perceive their error. 

“ Where is the Huron ? ” demanded Tamenund. “ Has 1C 
he stopped my ears ? ” 

Magua, whose feelings during that scene in which 
Uncas had triumphed may be much better imagined than 
described, answered to the call, by stepping boldly in 
front of the patriarch. it 

“ The just Tamenund,” he said, “ will not keep what 
a Huron has lent.” 

“Tell me, son of my brother,” returned the sage, 
avoiding the dark countenance of Le Subtil, and turning 
gladly to the more ingenuous features of Uncas; “has 20 
the stranger a conqueror’s right over you ? ” 

“ He has none. The panther may get into snares set 
by the women, but he is strong and knows how to leap 
through them.” 

“ La Longue Carabine ? ” 2S 

“ Laughs at the Mingos. Go, Huron; ask your squaws 
the color of a bear ! ” 

“The stranger and the white maiden that came into 
my camp together ? ” 


558 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ Should journey on an open path.” 

“ And the woman that Huron left with my warriors 7 n 

Uncas made no reply. 

“ And the woman that the Mingo has brought into 
5 my camp ? ” repeated Tamenund, gravely. 

“ She is mine,” cried Magua, shaking his hand in 
triumph at Uncas. “ Mohican, you know that she is 
mine.” 

“My son is silent,” said Tamenund, endeavoring to 
10 read the expression of the face that the youth turned 
from him in sorrow. 

“It is so,” was the low answer. 

A short and impressive pause succeeded, during which 
it was very apparent with what reluctance the multitude 
15 admitted the justice of the Mingo’s claim. At length 
the sage, on whom alone the decision depended, said, 
in a firm voice : 

“ Huron, depart.” 

“As he came, just Tamenund,” demanded the wily 
20 Magua; “ or with hands filled with the faith of the 
Delawares ? The wigwam of Le Renard Subtil is empty. 
Make him strong with his own.” 

The aged man mused with himself for a time, and 
then bending his head towards one of his venerable 
25 companions, he asked : 

“ Are my ears open ? ” 

“ It is true.” 

“ Is this Mingo a chief ? ” 

“ The first in his nation.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


55 9 


“ Girl, what wouldst thou ? A great warrior takes 
thee to wife. Go — thy race will not end.” 

“ Better, a thousand times, it should! ” exclaimed the 
horror-struck Cora, “ than meet with such a degrada¬ 
tion ! ” 5 

“ Huron, her mind is in the tents of her fathers. An 
unwilling maiden makes an unhappy wigwam.” 

“ She speaks with the tongue of her people,” returned 
Magua, regarding his victim with a look of bitter irony. 

“ She is of a race of traders, and will bargain for a 10 
bright look. Let Tamenund speak the words.” 

“ Take you the wampum, and our love.” 

“ Nothing hence, but what Magua brought hither.” 

“Then depart with thine own. The Great Manitou 
forbids that a Delaware should be unjust.” 15 

Magua advanced, and seized his captive strongly by 
the arm ; the Delawares fell back in silence; and Cora, 
as if conscious that remonstrance would be useless, pre¬ 
pared to submit to her fate without resistance. 

“ Hold, hold ! ” cried Duncan, springing forward; 20 
“ Huron, have mercy! Her ransom shall make thee 
richer than any of thy people were ever yet known to 
be.” 

“ Magua is a redskin ; he wants not the beads of the 
pale faces.” 25 

“ Gold, silver, powder, lead — all that a warrior needs, 
shall be in thy wigwam; all that becomes the greatest 
chief.” 

“ Le Subtil is very strong,” cried Magua, violently 


560 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


shaking the hand which grasped the unresisting arm of 
Cora; “ he has his revenge ! ” 

“ Mighty Ruler of providence ! ” exclaimed Heyward, 
clasping his hands together in agony, “ can this be suf- 
5 fered ? To you, just Tamenund, I appeal for mercy.” 

“ The words of the Delaware are said,” returned the 
sage, closing his eyes and dropping back into his seat, 
alike wearied with his mental and his bodily exertion. 
“Men speak not twice.” 

10 “ That a chief should not misspend his time in unsay¬ 

ing what has once been spoken is wise and reasonable,” 
said Hawkeye, motioning to Duncan to be silent; “ but 
it is also prudent in every warrior to consider well 
before he strikes his tomahawk into the head of his 
15 prisoner. Huron, I love you not; nor can I say that 
any Mingo has ever received much favor at my hands. 
It is fair to conclude, that, if this war does not soon end, 
many more of your warriors will meet me in the woods. 
Put it to your judgment, then, whether you would 
20 prefer taking such a prisoner as that lady into your 
encampment, or one like myself, who am a man that it 
would greatly rejoice your nation to see with naked 
hands.” 

“ Will ‘ The Long Rifle ’ give his life for the woman ? ” 
25 demanded Magua, hesitatingly; for he had already made 
a motion toward quitting the place with his victim. 

“Ho, no; I have not said so much as that,” returned 
Hawkeye, drawing back with suitable discretion, when 
he noted the eagerness with which Magua listened to 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 561 

his proposal. “ It would be an unequal exchange, to 
give a warrior in the prime of his age and usefulness 
for the best woman on the frontiers. I might consent 
to go into winter quarters, now — at least six weeks 
afore the leaves will turn — on condition you will 
release the maiden.” 

Magua shook his head, and made an impatient sign 
for the crowd to open. 

“Well, then,” added the scout, with the musing air 
of a man who had not half made up his mind, “ I will 
throw ‘ Kill-deer’ into the bargain. Take the word of 
an experienced hunter, the piece has not its equal 
atween the provinces.” 

Magua still disdained to reply, continuing his efforts 
to disperse the crowd. 

“Perhaps,” added the scout, losing his dissembled 
coolness, exactly in proportion as the other manifested 
an indifference to the exchange, “ if I should condition 
to teach your young men the real virtue of the weapon, 
it would smooth the little differences in our judgments.” 

Le Eenard fiercely ordered the Delawares, who still 
lingered in an impenetrable belt around him, in hopes 
he would listen to the amicable proposal, to open his 
path, threatening, by the glance of his eye, another ap¬ 
peal to the infallible justice of their “prophet.” 

“ What is ordered, must sooner or later arrive,” con¬ 
tinued Hawkeye, turning with a sad and humbled look 
to Uncas. “The varlet knows his advantage, and will 
keep it! God bless you, boy; you have found friends 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


among your natural kin, and I hope they will prove as 
true as some you have met who had no Indian cross. 
As for me, sooner or later, I must die; it is therefore 
fortunate there are but few to make my death-howl. 
5 After all, it is likely the imps would have managed to 
master my scalp, so a day or two will make no great 
difference in the everlasting reckoning of time. God 
bless you,” added the rugged woodsman, bending his 
head aside, and then instantly changing its direction 
10 again, with a wistful look towards the youth; “ I loved 
both you and your father, Uncas, though our skins are 
not altogether of a color, and our gifts are somewhat 
different. Tell the Sagamore I never lost sight of him 
in my greatest trouble; and, as for you, think of me 
15 sometimes when on a lucky trail; and depend on it, boy, 
whether there be one heaven or two, there is a path in 
•the other world by which honest men may come together 
again. You’ll find the rifle in the place we hid it; take 
it, and keep it for my sake; and harkee, lad, as your 
20 natural gifts don’t deny you the use of vengeance, use 
it a little freely on the Mingos; it may unburden your 
grief at my loss, and ease your mind. Huron, I accept 
your offer; release the woman. I am your prisoner.” 

A suppressed but still distinct murmur of approba- 
25 tion rang through the crowd at this generous proposi¬ 
tion ; even the fiercest among the Delaware warriors 
manifesting pleasure at the manliness of the intended 
sacrifice. Magua paused, and for an anxious moment it 
might be said he doubted ; then casting his eyes on Cora, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


563 


with an expression in which ferocity and admiration were 
strangely mingled, his purpose became fixed forever. 

He intimated his contempt of the offer, with a back¬ 
ward motion of his head, and said, in a steady and 
settled voice: 

“ Le Renard Subtil is a great chief; he has but one 
mind. Come,” he added, laying his hand too familiarly 
on the shoulder of his captive to urge her onward ; “ a 
Huron is no tattler; we will go.” 

The maiden drew back in lofty womanly reserve, and 
her dark eye kindled, while the rich blood shot, like the 
passing brightness of the sun, into her very temples, at 
the indignity. 

“ I am your prisoner, and at a fitting time shall be 
ready to follow, even to my death. But violence is un¬ 
necessary,” she coldly said ; and immediately turning to 
Hawkeye, added, “ generous hunter! from my soul I 
thank you. Your offer is vain, neither could it be ac¬ 
cepted ; but still you may serve me, even more than 
in your own noble intention. Look at that drooping, 
humbled child ! Abandon her not until you leave her 
in the habitations of civilized men. I will not say,” 
wringing the hard hand of the scout, “ that her father 
will reward you — for such as you are above the rewards 
of men — but he will thank you and bless you. And, 
believe me, the blessing of a just and aged man, has 
virtue in the sight of Heaven. Would to God I could 
hear one from his lips at this awful moment! ” Her 
voice became choked, and for an instant she was silent; 


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564 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


then, advancing a step nigher to Duncan, who was sup¬ 
porting her unconscious sister, she continued, in more 
subdued tones, but in which her feelings and the habits 
of her sex maintained a fearful struggle : “ I need not 
5 tell you to cherish the treasure you will possess. You 
love her, Heyward; that would conceal a thousand 
faults, though she had them. She is kind, gentle, 
sweet, good, as mortal may be. There is not a blemish in 
mind or person, at which the proudest of you all would 
10 sicken. She is fair — Oh ! how surpassingly fair ! ” 
laying her own beautiful, but less brilliant hand, in 
melancholy affection on the alabaster forehead of Alice, 
and parting the golden hair which clustered about her 
brows; “ and yet her soul is as pure and spotless as her 
15 skin! I could say much — more, perhaps, than cooler 
reason would approve ; but I will spare you and my¬ 
self — ” Her voice became inaudible, and her face was 
bent over the form of her sister. After a long and 
burning kiss she arose, and with features of the hue of 
20 death, but without even a tear in her feverish eye, she 
turned away and added to the savage, with all her 
former elevation of manner: “Now, sir, if it be your 
pleasure, I will follow.” 

“ Ay, go,” cried Duncan, placing Alice in the arms 
25 of an Indian girl; “ go, Magua, go. These Delawares 
have their laws, which forbid them to detain you; but 
I — I have no such obligation. Go, malignant monster 
— why do you delay ? ” 

It would be difficult to describe the expression of fea- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


565 


tures with which Magna listened to this threat to follow. 
There was at first a fierce and manifest display of joy, 
and then it was instantly subdued in a look of cunning 
coldness. 

“ The woods are open,” he was content with answer¬ 
ing ; “ ‘ The Open Hand 9 can follow.” 

“ Hold,” cried Hawkeye, seizing Duncan by the arm, 
and detaining him by violence; “ you know not the 
craft of the imp. He would lead you to an ambush- 
ment and your death — ” 

“ Huron,” interrupted Uncas, who, submissive to the 
stern customs of his people, had been an attentive and 
grave listener to all that passed ; “ Huron, the justice 
of the Delawares comes from the Manitou. Look at the 
sun. He is now in the upper branches of the hemlock. 
Your path is short and open. When he is seen above 
the trees, there will be men on your trail.” 

“ I hear a crow ! ” exclaimed Magua, with a taunting 
laugh. “ Go ! ” he added, shaking his hand at the 
crowd, which had slowly opened to admit his passage ; 
u where are the petticoats of the Delawares ! Let them 
send their arrows and their guns to the Wyandots; 
they shall have venison to eat and corn to hoe. Dogs, 
rabbits, thieves —I spit on you ! ” 

His parting gibes were listened to in a dead, boding, 
silence ; and with these biting words in his mouth the 
triumphant Magua passed unmolested into the forest, 
followed by his passive captive, and protected by the 
inviolable laws of Indian hospitality. 


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566 


JAMES FENIMOUE COOPER. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

Flue. Kill the poys and the luggage ! ’tis expressly against the 
law of arms : ’tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now, as can 
be offer’t. — Shakspeare, King Henry V. 

So long as their enemy and his victim continued in 
sight, the multitude remained motionless as beings 
charmed to the place by some power that was friendly 
to the Huron; but the instant he disappeared, it became 
5 tossed and agitated by fierce and powerful passion. Un- 
cas maintained his elevated stand, keeping his eyes on 
the form of Cora, until the colors of her dress were 
blended with the foliage of the forest; when he de¬ 
scended, and moving silently through the throng, he dis- 
io appeared in that lodge from which he had so recently 
issued. A few of the graver and more attentive war¬ 
riors, who caught the gleams of anger that shot from the 
eyes of the young chief in passing, followed him to the 
place he had selected for his meditations. After which, 
15 Tamenund and Alice were removed, and the women and 
children were ordered to disperse. During the momen¬ 
tous hour that succeeded, the encampment resembled a 
hive of troubled bees, who only awaited the appearance 
and example of their leader to take some distant and 
20 momentous flight. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


567 


A young warrior at length issued from the lodge of 
Uncas, and moving deliberately, with a sort of grave 
march, towards a dwarf pine that grew in the crevices of 
the rocky terrace, he tore the bark from its body, and 
then returned whence he came, without speaking. He 
was soon followed by another, who stripped the sapling 
of its branches, leaving it a naked and blazed trunk. A 
third colored the post with stripes of a dark red paint; 
all which indications of a hostile design in the leaders of 
the nation were received by the men without, in a gloomy 
and ominous silence. Finally the Mohican himself re¬ 
appeared, divested of all his attire except his girdle and 
leggings, and with one-half of his fine features hid under 
a cloud of threatening black. 

Uncas moved with a slow and dignified tread towards 
the post, which he immediately commenced encircling 
with a measured step, not unlike an ancient dance, rais¬ 
ing his voice, at the same time, in the wild and irregular 
chant of his war-song. The notes were in the extremes 
of human sounds ; being sometimes melancholy and ex¬ 
quisitely plaintive, even rivalling the melody of birds ; 
and then, by sudden and startling transitions, causing 
the auditors to tremble by their depth and energy. The 
words were few and often repeated, proceeding gradually 
from a sort of invocation, or hymn to the Deity, to an 
intimation of the warrior’s object, and terminating as 
they commenced, with an acknowledgment of his own 
dependence on the Great Spirit. If it were possible to 
translate the comprehensive and melodious language in 


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568 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


which he spoke, the ode might read something like the 
following — 

Manitou ! Manitou ! Manitou ! 

Thou art great, thou art good, thou art wise : 

5 Manitou ! Manitou ! 

Thou art just. 

In the heavens, in the clouds, Oh ! I see 

Many spots — many dark, many red : 

In the heavens, Oh ! I see 

10 Many clouds. 

In the woods, in the air, Oh ! I hear 

The whoop, the long yell, and the cry : 

In the woods, Oh ! I hear 

The loud whoop ! 

15 Manitou ! Manitou ! Manitou ! 

I am weak — thou art strong ; I am slow : 

Manitou ! Manitou ! 

Give me aid. 

At the end of what might be called each verse he 
20 made a pause, by raising a note louder and longer than 
common, that was peculiarly suited to the sentiment 
just expressed. The first close was solemn and intended 
to convey the idea of veneration; the second descriptive, 
bordering on the alarming; and the third was the well- 
25 known and terrific war-whoop, which burst from the lips 
of the young warrior like a combination of all the fright¬ 
ful sounds of battle. The last was like the first, hum¬ 
ble and imploring. Three times did he repeat this song, 
and as often did he encircle the post, in his dance. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


569 


At the close of the first turn, a grave and highly 
esteemed chief of the Lenape, followed his example, 
singing words of his own, however, to music of a similar 
character. Warrior after warrior enlisted in the dance, 
until all of any renown and authority were numbered in 
its mazes. The spectacle now became wildly terrific; 
the fierce-looking and menacing visages of the chiefs 
receiving additional power from the appalling strains 
in which they mingled their guttural tones. Just then 
Uncas struck his tomahawk deep into the post, and 
raised his voice in a shout, which might be termed his 
own battle cry. The act announced that he had assumed 
the chief authority in the intended expedition. 

It was a signal that awakened all the slumbering pas¬ 
sions of the nation. A hundred youths, who had hith¬ 
erto been restrained by the diffidence of their years, 
rushed in a frantic body on the fancied emblem of their 
enemy, and severed it asunder, splinter by splinter, until 
nothing remained of the trunk but its roots in the earth. 
During this moment of tumult, the most ruthless deeds 
of war were performed on the fragments of the tree, with 
as much apparent ferocity, as if they were the actual 
living victims of their cruelty. Some were scalped; 
some received the keen and trembling axe; and others 
suffered by thrusts from the fatal knife. In short, the 
manifestations of zeal and fierce delight were so great 
and unequivocal, that the expedition was declared to be 
a war of the nation. 

The instant Uncas had struck the blow, he moved out 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


570 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


of the circle and cast his eyes up at the sun, which was 
just gaining the point when the truce with Magua was 
to end. The fact was soon announced by a significant 
gesture, accompanied by a corresponding cry, and the 
5 whole of the excited multitude abandoned their mimic 
warfare, with shrill yells of pleasure, to prepare for the 
more hazardous experiment of the reality. 

The whole face of the encampment was instantly 
changed. The warriors, who were already armed and 
10 painted, became as still as if they were incapable of any 
uncommon burst of emotion. On the other hand, the 
women broke out of the lodges, with the songs of joy 
and those of lamentation so strangely mingled, that it 
might have been difficult to have said which passion 
15 preponderated. None, however, were idle. Some bore 
their choicest articles, others their young, and some their 
aged and infirm, into the forest, which spread itself like 
a verdant carpet of bright green, against the side of the 
mountain. Thither Tamenund also retired, with calm 
20 composure, after a short and touching interview with 
Uncas; from whom the sage separated with the reluc¬ 
tance that a parent would quit a long-lost and just- 
recovered child. In the meantime Duncan saw Alice 
to a place of safety and then sought the scout, with 
25 features that denoted how eagerly he also panted for the 
approaching contest. 

But Hawkeye was too much accustomed to the war- 
song and the enlistments of the natives to betray any 
interest in the passing scene. He merely cast an occa 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


571 


sional look at the number and quality of the warriors, 
who from time to time signified their readiness to ac¬ 
company Uncas to the field. In this particular he was 
soon satisfied; for, as has already been seen, the power 
of the young chief quickly embraced every fighting man 5 
in the nation. After this material point was so satis¬ 
factorily decided, he despatched an Indian boy, in quest 
of “ Kill-deer ” and the rifle of Uncas, to the place where 
they had deposited the weapons, on approaching the 
camp of the Delawares : a measure of double policy, 10 
inasmuch as it protected the arms from their own fate, 
if detained as prisoners, and gave them the advantage 
of appearing among the strangers rather as sufferers, 
than as men provided with the means of defence and 
subsistence. In selecting another to perform the office 15 
of reclaiming his highly prized rifle, the scout had lost 
sight of none of his habitual caution. He knew that 
Magua had not come unattended, and he also knew that 
Huron spies watched the movements of their new ene¬ 
mies along the whole boundary of the woods. It would, 20 
therefore, have been fatal to himself to have attempted 
the experiment; a warrior would have fared no better; 
but the danger of a boy would not be likely to commence 
until after his object was discovered. When Heyward 
joined him, the scout was coolly awaiting the result of 25 
this experiment. 

The boy, who had been well instructed and was suffi¬ 
ciently crafty, proceeded, with a bosom that was swell¬ 
ing with the pride of such a confidence, and all the 


572 


JAMES FENIMOBE COOPER. 


hopes of young ambition, carelessly across the clearing 
to the wood, which he entered at a point at some little 
distance from the place where the guns were secreted. 
The instant, however, he was concealed by the foliage 
5 of the bushes, his dusky form was to be seen gliding, 
like that of a serpent, towards the desired treasure. He 
was successful; and in another moment he appeared, 
flying across the narrow opening that skirted the base of 
the terrace on which the village stood, with the velocity 
10 of an arrow, and bearing a prize in each hand. He had 
actually gained the crags, and was leaping up their sides 
with incredible activity, when a shot from the woods 
showed how accurate had been the judgment of the 
scout. The boy answered it with a feeble, but contemp- 
15 tous shout, and immediately a second bullet was sent 
after him, from another part of the cover. At the next 
instant he appeared on the level above, elevating his 
guns in triumph, while he moved, with the air of a con¬ 
queror towards the renowned hunter, who had honored 
20 him with so glorious a commission. 

Notwithstanding the lively interest Hawkeye had 
taken in the fate of his messenger, he received “ Kill- 
deer” with a satisfaction that momentarily drove all 
other recollections from his mind. After examining the 
25 piece with a keen and intelligent eye, and opening and 
shutting the pan some ten or fifteen times, and trying 
sundry other equally important experiments on the 
lock, he turned to the boy, and demanded, with great 
manifestations of kindness, if he was hurt. The 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 573 

urchin looked proudly np in his face, but made no 
reply. 

“ Ay ! I see, lad, the knaves have barked your arm ! ” 
added the scout, taking up the limb of the patient suf¬ 
ferer, across which a deep flesh wound had been made 
by one of the bullets; “ but a little bruised alder will 
act like a charm. In the meantime, I will wrap it in 
a badge of wampum. You have commenced the busi¬ 
ness of a warrior early, my brave boy, and are likely 
to bear a plenty of honorable scars to your grave. I 
know many young men that have taken scalps who can¬ 
not show such a mark as this. Go ! ” having bound up 
the arm; “you will be a chief.” 

The lad departed, prouder of his flowing blood than 
the vainest courtier could be of his blushing ribbon; and 
stalked among the fellows of his age, an object of general 
admiration and envy. 

But in a moment of so many serious and important 
duties, this single act of juvenile fortitude did not 
attract the general notice and commendation it would 
have received under milder auspices. It had, however, 
served to apprise the Delawares of the position and the 
intentions of their enemies. Accordingly a part} T of 
adventurers, better suited to the task than the weak, 
though spirited boy, was ordered to dislodge the skulk¬ 
ers. The duty was soon performed, for most of the 
Hurons retired of themselves, when they found they 
had been discovered. The Delawares followed to a suf¬ 
ficient distance from their own encampment, and then 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


574 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


halted for orders, apprehensive of being led iiito an 
ambush. As both parties secreted themselves, the woods 
were again as still and quiet as a mild summer morning 
and deep solitude could render them. 

5 The calm, but still impatient Uncas now collected his 
chiefs and divided his power. He presented Hawkeye 
as a warrior often tried and always found deserving of 
confidence. When he found his friend met with a fa¬ 
vorable reception, he bestowed on him the command of 
10 twenty men, like himself active, skilful, and resolute. 
He gave the Delawares to understand the rank of Hey¬ 
ward among the troops of the Yengeese, and then ten¬ 
dered to him a trust of equal authority. But Duncan 
declined the charge, professing his readiness to serve 
15 as a volunteer by the side of the scout. After this dis¬ 
position, the young Mohican appointed various native 
chiefs to fill the different situations of responsibility, 
and the time pressing, he gave forth the word to march. 
He was cheerfully but silently obeyed by more than 
20 two hundred men. 

Their entrance into the forest was perfectly unmo¬ 
lested ; nor did they encounter any living objects that 
could either give the alarm or furnish the intelligence 
they needed, until they came upon the lairs of their own 
25 scouts. Here a halt was ordered, and the chiefs were 
assembled in front to hold a “ whispering council.” At 
this meeting divers plans of operation were suggested, 
though none of a character to meet the wishes of their 
ardent leader. Had Uncas followed the promptings of 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


575 


his own inclinations, he would have led his followers to 
the charge without a moment’s delay, and put the con¬ 
flict to the hazard of an instant issue ; but such a course 
would have been in opposition to all the received prac¬ 
tices and opinions of his countrymen. He was, there- 5 
fore, fain to adopt a caution that, in the present temper 
of his mind, he execrated, and to listen to advice at 
which his fiery spirit chafed, under the vivid recollection 
of Cora’s danger and Magua’s insolence. 

After an unsatisfactory conference of many minutes, 1C 
a solitary individual was seen advancing from the side 
of the enemy, with such apparent haste as to induce the 
belief he might be a messenger charged with some pa¬ 
cific overtures. When within a hundred yards, how¬ 
ever, of the cover behind which the Delaware council 15 
had assembled, the stranger hesitated, appeared uncer¬ 
tain what course to take, and finally halted. All eyes 
were now turned on Uncas, as if seeking directions how 
to proceed. 

“ Hawkeye,” said the young chief, in a low voice, 20 
“ he must never speak to the Hurons again.” 

“ His time has come,” said the laconic scout, thrust¬ 
ing the long barrel of his rifle through the leaves, and 
taking his deliberate and fatal aim. But, instead of 
pulling the trigger, he lowered the muzzle again, and 25 
indulged himself in a fit of his peculiar mirth. “ I took 
the imp for a Mingo, as I’m a miserable sinner ! ” he 
said; “ but when my eye ranged along his ribs, for a 
place to get the bullet in — would you think it, Uncas ? 


576 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


— I saw the musicianer’s blower; and so, after all, it is 
the man they call Gamut, whose death can profit no one, 
and whose life, if his tongue can do anything but sing, 
may be made serviceable to our own ends. If sounds 
5 have not lost their virtue, Fll soon have a discourse with 
the honest fellow, and that in a voice he’ll find more 
agreeable than the speech of ‘ Kill-deer.’ ” 

So saying, Hawkeye laid aside his rifle, and crawling 
through the bushes, until within hearing of David, he 
10 attempted to repeat the musical effort which had con¬ 
ducted himself, with so much safety and eclat , through 
the Huron encampment. The exquisite organs of Gamut 
could not readily be deceived (and, to say the truth, it 
would have been difficult for any other than Hawkeye to 
15 produce a similar noise) and, consequently, having once 
before heard the sounds, he now knew whence they pro¬ 
ceeded. The poor fellow appeared relieved from a state 
of great embarrassment; for, pursuing the direction of 
the voice — a task that to him was not much less ardu- 
20 ous than it would have been to have gone up in the face 
of a battery — he soon discovered the hidden songster. 

“ I wonder what the Hurons will think of that! ” 
said the scout, laughing, as he took his companion by 
the arm, and urged him towards the rear. “ If the 
25 knaves lie within ear-shot, they will say there are two 
non-compossers, instead of one. But here we are safe,” 
he added, pointing to Uncas and his associates. “ Now 
give us the history of the Mingo inventions in natural 
English, and without any ups-and-downs of voice.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


577 


David gazed about him at the fierce and wild-looking 
chiefs in mute wonder; but, assured by the presence of 
faces that he knew, he soon rallied his faculties so far 
as to make an intelligent reply. 

“ The heathen are abroad in goodly numbers,” said 5 
David; “ and I fear with evil intent. There has been 
much howling and ungodly revelry, together with such 
sounds as it is profanity to utter, in their habitations 
within the past hour; so much so, in truth, that I have 
fled to the Delawares in search of peace.’’ 10 

“Your ears might not have profited much by the 
exchange, had you been quicker of foot,” returned the 
scout a little dryly. “ But let that be as it may; where 
are the Hurons ? ” 

“ They lie hid in the forest, between this spot and 15 
their village, in such force that prudence would teach 
you instantly to return.” 

Uncas cast a glance along the range of trees which 
concealed his own band and mentioned the name of — 

“ Magua ? ” — 20 

“ Is among them. He brought in the maiden that 
had sojourned with the Delawares, and leaving her in 
the cave, has put himself, like a raging wolf, at the head 
of his savages. I know not what has troubled his spirit 
so greatly.” 25 

“ He has left her, you say, in the cave,” interrupted 
Heyward ; “ ’tis well that we know its situation ! May 
not something be done for her instant relief ? ” 

Uncas looked earnestly at the scout before he asked: 


578 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ What says Hawkeye ? ” 

“Give me my twenty rifles, and I will turn to the 
right, along the stream, and passing by the huts of the 
beaver, will join the Sagamore and the Colonel. You 
5 shall then hear the whoop from that quarter; with this 
wind one may easily send it a mile. Then, Uncas, do 
you drive in their front; when they come within range 
of our pieces, we will give them a blow, that I pledge 
the good name of an old frontiersman, shall make their 
10 line bend like an ashen bow. After which we will 
carry their village, and take the woman from the cave; 
when the affair may be finished with the tribe, according 
to a white man’s battle, by a blow and a victory; or, in 
the Indian fashion, with dodge and cover. There may 
15 be no great learning, major, in this plan, but with cour¬ 
age and patience it can all be done.” 

“I like it much,” cried Duncan, who saw that the 
release of Cora was the primary object in the mind of 
the scout; “ I like it much. Let it be instantly at- 
20 tempted.” 

After a short conference the plan was matured and 
rendered more intelligible to the several parties; the 
different signals were appointed, and the chiefs sep&> 
rated, each to his allotted station. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


579 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

But plagues shall spread and funeral fires increase, 

Till the great King, without a ransom paid, 

To her own Chrysa send the black-eyed maid. 

Pope’s Homer’s Iliad. 

During the time Uncas was making this disposition 
of his forces, the woods were as still, and, with the 
exception of those who had met in council, apparently 
as much untenanted as when they came fresh from the 
hands of their Almighty Creator. The eye could range 5 
in every direction through the long and shadowed vistas 
of the trees; but nowhere was any object to be seen that 
did not properly belong to the peaceful and slumbering 
scenery. Here and there a bird was heard fluttering 
among the branches of the beeches, and occasionally a 10 
squirrel dropped a nut, drawing the startled looks of the 
party for a moment to the place; but the instant the 
casual interruption ceased, the passing air was heard 
murmuring above their heads, along that verdant and 
undulating surface of forest, which spread itself 15 
unbroken, unless by stream or lake, over such a vast 
region of country. Across the tract of wilderness 
which lay between the Delawares and the village of 
their enemies, it seemed as if the foot of man had 


580 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


never trodden, so breathing and deep was the silence 
in which it lay. But Hawkeye, whose duty now led 
him foremost in the adventure, knew the character of 
those with whom he was about to contend too well to 
5 trust the treacherous quiet. 

When he saw his little band collected, the scout threw 
“ Kill-deer ” into the hollow of his arm, and making a 
silent signal that he would be followed, he led them 
many rods towards the rear, into the bed of a little 
10 brook, which they had crossed in advancing. Here he 
halted, and after waiting for the whole of his grave and 
attentive warriors to close about him, he spoke in Dela¬ 
ware, demanding: 

“Do any of my young men know whither this run 
15 will lead us ? ” 

A Delaware stretched forth a hand, with the two 
fingers separated, and, indicating the manner in which 
they were joined at the root, he answered: 

“ Before the sun could go his own length, the little 
20 water will be in the big.” Then he added, pointing in 
the direction of the place he mentioned, “ the two make 
enough for the beavers.” 

“ I thought as much,” returned the scout, glancing 
his eye upward at the opening in the tree-tops, “ from 
25 the course it takes and the bearings of the mountains. 
Men, we will keep within the cover of its banks till we 
scent the Hurons.” 

His companions gave the usual brief exclamation of 
assent, but perceiving that their leader was about to 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


581 


lead the way in person one or two made signs that all 
was not as it should be. Hawkeye, who comprehended 
their meaning glances, turned, and perceived that his 
party had been followed thus far by the singing-master. 

“ Do you know, friend,” asked the scout, gravely, and 
perhaps with a little of the pride of conscious deserving 
in his manner, “that this is a band of rangers chosen 
for the most desperate service, and put under the com¬ 
mand of one, who, though another might say it with 
a better face, will not be apt to leave them idle ? It 
may not be five, it cannot be thirty, minutes before we 
tread on the body of a Huron, living or dead.” 

“ Though not admonished of your intentions in 
words,” returned David, whose face was a little flushed, 
and whose ordinarily quiet and unmeaning eyes glim¬ 
mered with an expression of unusual fire, “ your men 
have reminded me of the children of Jacob goingoutto 
battle against the Shechemites, for wickedly aspiring to 
wedlock with a woman of a race that was favored of the 
Lord. Now, I have journeyed far, and sojourned much 
in good and evil with the maiden ye seek; and, though 
not a man of war, with my loins girded and my sword 
sharpened, yet would I gladly strike a blow in her be¬ 
half.” 

The scout hesitated, as if weighing the chances of such 
a strange enlistment in his mind, before he answered : 

“ You know not the use of any we’pon. You carry 
no rifle; and, believe me, what the Mingos take, they 
will freely give again.” 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


582 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ Though not a vaunting and bloodily disposed Go¬ 
liath/’ returned David, drawing a sling from beneath his 
parti-colored and uncouth attire, “I have not forgot¬ 
ten the example of the Jewish boy. With this ancient 
5 instrument of war have I practised much in my youth, 
and peradventure the skill has not entirely departed 
from me.” 

“ Ay,” said Hawkeye, considering the deerskin thong 
and apron with a cold and discouraging eye ; “ the thing 
10 might do its work among arrows or even knives ; but 
these Mengwe have been furnished by the Frenchers 
with a good grooved barrel a man. However, it seems 
to be your gift to go unharmed amid a fire; and as you 
have hitherto been favored — Major, you have left your 
15 rifle at a cock; a single shot before the time, would 
be just twenty scalps lost to no purpose — Singer, you 
can follow; we may find use for you in the shout¬ 
ings.” 

“ I thank you, friend,” returned David, supplying 
20 himself, like his royal namesake, from among the peb¬ 
bles of the brook, “ though not given to the desire to 
kill, had you sent me away, my spirit would have been 
troubled.” 

“ Remember,” added the scout, tapping his own head 
25 significantly on that spot where Gamut was yet sore, 
“ we come to fight and not to musickate. Until the 
general whoop is given, nothing speaks but the rifle.” 

David nodded, as much as to signify his acquiescence 
with the terms, and then Hawkeye, casting another ob- 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


583 


servant glance over his followers, made the signal to 
proceed. 

Their route lay, for the distance of a mile, along the 
bed of the water course. Though protected from any great 
danger of observation by the precipitous banks and the 
thick shrubbery which skirted the stream, no precaution 
known to an Indian attack was neglected. A warrior 
rather crawled than walked on each flank, so as to catch 
occasional glimpses into the forest; and every few min¬ 
utes the band came to a halt, and listened for hostile 
sounds with an acuteness of organs that would be 
scarcely conceivable to a man in a less natural state. 
Their march was, however, unmolested, and they reached 
the point where the lesser stream was lost in the greater, 
without the smallest evidence that their progress had 
been noted. Here the scout again halted to consult 
the signs of the forest. 

“We are likely to have a good day for a fight ,” he 
said in English addressing Heyward, and glancing his 
eye upwards at the clouds, which began to move in 
broad sheets across the firmament; “ a bright sun and a 
glittering barrel are no friends to true sight. Everything 
is favorable; they have the wind, which will bring down 
their noises and their smoke too, no little matter in it¬ 
self ; whereas, with us, it will be first a shot and then a 
clear view. But here is an end of our cover; the beaver 
have had the range of this stream for hundreds of years, 
and what atween their food and their dams there is, as 
you see, many a girdled stub, but few living trees.” 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


584 


JAMES FENIMOIIE COOPER. 


Hawkeye had, in truth, in these few words, given no 
bad description of the prospect that now lay in their 
front. The brook was irregular in its width, sometimes 
shooting through narrow fissures in the rocks, and at 
5 others spreading over acres of bottom land, forming 
little areas that might be termed ponds. Everywhere 
along its banks were the mouldering relics of dead trees 
in all the stages of decay, from those that groaned on 
their tottering trunks, to such as had recently been rob- 
10 bed of those rugged coats that so mysteriously contain 
their principle of life. A few long, low, and moss-cov¬ 
ered piles, were scattered among them, like the memo¬ 
rials of a former and long-departed generation. 

All these minute particulars were noted by the scout 
15 with a gravity and interest that they probably had never 
before attracted. He knew that the Huron encampment 
lay a short half mile up the brook, and, with the charac¬ 
teristic anxiety of one who dreaded a hidden danger, he 
was greatly troubled at not finding the smallest trace of 
20 the presence of his enemy. Once or twice he felt in¬ 
duced to give the order for a rush, and to attempt the 
village by surprise; but his experience quickly admon¬ 
ished him of the danger of so useless an experiment. 
Then he listened intently and with painful uncertainty 
•25 for the sounds of hostility in the quarter where Uncas 
was left; but nothing was audible except the sighing of 
the wind, that began to sweep over the bosom of the 
forest in gusts, which threatened a tempest. At length, 
yielding rather to his unusual impatience, than taking 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 585 

counsel from his knowledge, he determined to bring 
matters to an issue by unmasking his force and proceed¬ 
ing cautiously, but steadily, up the stream. 

The scout had stood, while making his observations, 
sheltered by a brake, and his companions still lay in the 
bed of the ravine, through which the smaller stream 
debouched; but on hearing his low, though intelligible 
signal, the whole party stole up the bank like so many 
dark spectres, and silently arranged themselves around 
him. Pointing in the direction he wished to proceed, 
Hawkeye advanced, the band breaking off in single files, 
and following so accurately in his footsteps as to leave 
it, if we except Heyward and David, the trail of but a 
single man. 

The party was, however, scarcely uncovered before a 
volley from a dozen rifles was heard in their rear, and a 
Delaware leaping high into the air, like a wounded deer, 
fell at his whole length perfectly dead. 

“ Ah ! I feared some deviltry like this! ” exclaimed 
the scout, in English ; adding, with the quickness of 
thought, in his adopted tongue, “to cover, men, and 
charge !” 

The band dispersed at the word, and before Heyward 
had well recovered from his surprise, he found himself 
standing alone with David. Luckily the Hurons had 
already fallen back, and he was safe from their fire. 
But this state of things was evidently to be of short 
continuance, for the scout set the example of press¬ 
ing on their retreat, by discharging his rifle, and dart- 


s 

10 

15 

2<J 

25 


586 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


ing from tree to tree, as his enemy slowly yielded 
ground. 

It would seem that the assault had been made by a 
very small party of the Hurons, which, however, com 
5 tinued to increase in numbers, as it retired on its friends, 
until the return fire was very nearly, if not quite, equal 
to that maintained by the advancing Delawares. Hey¬ 
ward threw himself among the combatants, and imitat¬ 
ing the necessary caution of his companions, he made 
10 quick discharges with his own rifle. The contest now 
grew warm and stationary. Few were injured, as both 
parties kept their bodies as much protected as possible 
by the trees; never, indeed, exposing any part of their 
persons except in the act of taking aim. But the chances 
15 were gradually growing unfavorable to Hawkeye and 
his band. The quick-sighted scout perceived his danger 
without knowing how to remedy it. He saw it was 
more dangerous to retreat than to maintain his ground ; 
while he found his enemy throwing out men on his 
20 flank, which rendered the task of keeping themselves 
covered so very difficult to the Delawares as nearly to 
silence their fire. At this embarrassing moment, when 
they began to think the whole of the hostile tribe was 
gradually encircling them, they heard the yell of comba- 
25 tants and the rattling of arms echoing under the arches 
of the wood, at the place where Uncas was posted; a 
bottom which, in a manner, lay beneath the ground on 
which Hawkeye and his party were contending. 

The effects of this attack were instantaneous, and to 



THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


587 


the scout and his friends greatly relieving. It would 
seem that, while his own surprise had been anticipated, 
and had consequently failed, the enemy, in their turn, 
having been deceived in its object and in his numbers, 
had left too small a force to resist the impetuous onset S 
of the young Mohican. This fact was doubly apparent 
by the rapid manner in which the battle in the forest 
rolled upward towards the village, and by an instant 
falling off in the number of their assailants, who rushed 
to assist in maintaining the front, and, as it now proved 10 
to be, the principal point of defence. 

Animating his followers by his voice and his own ex¬ 
ample, Hawkeye then gave the word to bear down upon 
their foes. The charge, in that rilde species of warfare, 
consisted merely in pushing from cover to cover, nigher 15 
to the enemy; and in this manoeuvre he was instantly 
and successfully obeyed. The Hurons were compelled 
to withdraw, and the scene of the contest rapidly changed 
from the more open ground on which it had commenced 
to a spot where the assailed found a thicket to rest upon. 20 
Here the struggle was protracted, arduous, and seem¬ 
ingly of doubtful issue; the Delawares, though none 
of them fell, beginning to bleed freely in consequence of 
the disadvantage at which they were held. 

In this crisis, Hawkeye found means to get behind 25 
the same tree as that which served for a cover to Hey¬ 
ward ; most of his own combatants being within call, a 
little on his right, where they maintained rapid, though 
fruitless, discharges on their sheltered enemies. 


588 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


“You are a young man, major/’ said the scout, drop 
ping the butt of “ Kill-deer ” to the earth, and leaning on 
the barrel, a little fatigued with his previous industry; 
“ and it may be your gift to lead armies at some future 
5 day ag’in these imps, the Mingos. You may here see 
the philosophy of an Indian fight. It consists mainly 
in a ready hand, a quick eye, and a good cover. Now, 
if you had a company of the Royal Americans here, 
in what manner would you set them to work in this 
to business ? ” 

“ The bayonet would make a road.” 

“ Ay, there is white reason in what you say; but a 
man must ask himself, in this wilderness, how many 
lives he can spare. No — horse,” continued the scout, 
15 shaking his head, like one who mused; “ horse, I am 
ashamed to say, must, sooner or later, decide these 
skrimmages. The brutes are better than men, and to 
horse must we come at last. Put a shodden hoof on 
the moccasin of a redskin, and if his rifle be once 
20 emptied, he will never stop to load it again.” 

“This is a subject that might better be discussed 
another time,” returned Heyward ; “ shall we charge ? ” 

“I see no contradiction to the gifts of any man in 
passing his breathing-spells in useful reflections,” the 
25 scout mildly replied. “ As to a rush, I little relish such 
a measure, for a scalp or two must be thrown away in 
the attempt. And yet,” he added, bending his head 
aside to catch the sounds of the distant combat, “ if we 
are to be of use to Uncas, these knaves in our front 
30 must be got rid of.” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


589 


Then turning with a prompt and decided air from 
Duncan, he called aloud to his Indians in their own 
language. His words were answered by a shout, and, 
at a given signal, each warrior made a swift movement 
around his particular tree. The sight of so many dark 
bodies, glancing before their eyes at the same instant, 
drew a hasty, and consequently an ineffectual fire from 
the Hurons. Then, without stopping to breathe, the 
Delawares leaped in long bounds towards the wood, like 
so many panthers springing upon their prey. Hawkeye 
was in front, brandishing his terrible rifle and animat¬ 
ing his followers by his example. A few of the older 
and more cunning Hurons, who had not been deceived 
by the artifice which had been practised to draw their 
fire, now made a close and deadly discharge of their 
pieces, and justified the apprehensions of the scout by 
felling three of his foremost warriors. But the shock 
was insufficient to repel the impetus of the charge. The 
Delawares broke into the cover with the ferocity of their 
natures, and swept away every trace of resistance by the 
fury of the onset. 

The combat endured only for an instant hand to 
hand, and then the assailed yielded ground rapidly, until 
they reached the opposite margin of the thicket, where 
they clung to the cover with the sort of obstinacy that 
is so often witnessed in hunted brutes. At this critical 
moment, when the success of the struggle was again 
becoming doubtful, the crack of a rifle was heard behind 
the Hurons, and a bullet came whizzing from among 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


590 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


some beaver lodges which were situated in the clearing 
in their rear, and was followed by the fierce and appall¬ 
ing yell of the war-whoop. 

“There speaks the Sagamore!” shouted Hawkeye, 
5 answering the cry with his own stentorian voice; “ we 
have them now in face and back.” 

The effect on the Hurons was instantaneous. Dis¬ 
couraged by an assault, from a quarter that left them 
no opportunity for cover, their warriors uttered a common 
10 yell of disappointment, and breaking off in a body, they 
spread themselves across the opening, heedless of every 
other consideration but flight. Many fell, in making 
the experiment, under the bullets and the blows of the 
pursuing Delawares. 

15 We shall not pause to detail the meeting between the 
scout and Chingachgook, or the more touching interview 
that Duncan held with Munro. A few brief and hurried 
words served to explain the state of things to both 
parties ; and then Hawkeye, pointing out the Sagamore 
20 to his band, resigned the chief authority into the hands 
of the Mohican chief. Chingachgook assumed the sta¬ 
tion to which his birth and experience gave him so dis¬ 
tinguished a claim, with the grave dignity that always 
gives force to the mandates of a native warrior. Follow- 
25 ing the footsteps of the scout, he led the party back 
through the thicket, his men scalping the fallen Hurons, 
and secreting the bodies of their own dead, as they pro¬ 
ceeded, until they gained a point where the former was 
content to make a halt. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 591 

The warriors, who had breathed themselves freely in 
the preceding struggle, were now posted on a bit of level 
ground, sprinkled with trees in sufficient numbers to 
conceal them. The land fell away rather precipitately 
in front, and beneath their eyes stretched for several 
miles, a narrow, dark, and wooded vale. It was through 
this dense and dark forest, that Uncas was still con¬ 
tending with the main body of the Hurons. 

The Mohican and his friends advanced to the brow of 
the hill and listened with practised ears to the sounds 
of the combat. A few birds hovered over the leafy 
bosom of the valley, frightened from their secluded 
nests; and here and there a light vapory cloud, which 
seemed already blending with the atmosphere, arose 
above the trees, and indicated some spot where the 
struggle had been fierce and stationary. 

“The fight is coming up the ascent,” said Duncan, 
pointing ih the direction of a new explosion of fire-arms; 
“ we are too much in the centre of their line to be effec¬ 
tive.” 

“They will incline into the hollow, where the cover 
is thicker,” said the scout, “ and that will leave us well 
on their flank. Go, Sagamore; you will hardly be in 
time to give the whoop and lead on the young men. 1 
will fight this skrimmage with warriors of my own color. 
You know me, Mohican ; not a Huron of them all shall 
cross the swell into your rear, without the notice of 
‘Kill-deer.’ ” 

The Indian chief paused another moment to consider 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


592 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


the signs of the contest, which was now rolling rapidly 
up the ascent, a certain evidence that the Delawares 
triumphed; nor did he actually quit the place, until 
admonished of the proximity of his friends, as well as 
5 enemies, by the bullets of the former, which began to 
patter among the dried leaves on the ground, like the 
bits of falling hail which precede the bursting of the 
tempest. Hawkeye and his three companions withdrew 
a few paces to a sheltered spot, and awaited the issue 
10 with that sort of calmness that nothing but great prac¬ 
tice could impart, in such a scene. 

It w r as not long before the reports of the rifles began 
to lose the echoes of the woods and to sound like weap¬ 
ons discharged in the open air. Then a warrior ap- 
15 peared, here and there, driven to the skirts of the 
forest, and rallying as he entered the clearing, as at the 
place where the final stand was to be made. These were 
soon joined by others, until a long line of swarthy fig¬ 
ures was to be seen clinging to the cover with the obsti- 
20 nacy of desperation. Heyward began to grow impatient 
and turned his eyes anxiously in the direction of Chin- 
gachgook. The chief was seated on a rock, with nothing 
visible but his calm visage, considering the spectacle 
with an eye as deliberate as if he were posted there 
25 merely to view the struggle. 

“ The time is come for the Delaware to strike !” said 
Duncan. 

“ Not so, not so,” returned the scout; “ when he 
scents his friends, he will let them know that he is 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


593 


here. See, see; the knaves are getting in that clump 
of pines, like bees settling after their flight. By the 
Lord, a squaw might put a bullet into the centre of such 
a knot of dark-skins ! ” 

At that instant the whoop was given, and a dozen 
Hurons fell by a discharge from Chingachgook and his 
band. The shout that followed was answered by a 
single war-cry from the forest, and a yell passed through 
the air, that sounded as though a thousand throats were 
united in a common effort. The Hurons staggered, de¬ 
serting the centre of their line, and Uncas issued, through 
the opening they left, from the forest, at the head of a 
hundred warriors. 

Waving his hands right and left, the young chief 
pointed out the enemy to his followers, who separated in 
pursuit. The war now divided, both wings of the broken 
Hurons seeking protection in the woods again, hotly 
pressed by the victorious warriors of the Lenape. A 
minute might have passed, but the sounds were already 
receding in different directions, and gradually losing their 
distinctness beneath the echoing arches of the woods. 
One little knot of Hurons, however, had disdained to 
seek a cover, and were retiring, like lions at bay, slowly 
and sullenly up the acclivity, which Chingachgook and 
his band had just deserted to mingle more closely in the 
fray. Magua was conspicuous in this party, both by his 
fierce and savage mien, and by the air of haughty author¬ 
ity he yet maintained. 

In his eagerness to expedite the pursuit, Uncas had 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


594 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


left himself nearly alone; but the moment his eye 
caught the figure of Le Subtil every other consideration 
was forgotten. Raising his cry of battle, which recalled 
some six or seven warriors, and reckless of the disparity 
5 in their numbers, he rushed upon his enemy. Le Renard, 
who watched the movement, paused to receive him with 
secret joy. But at the moment when he thought the 
rashness of his impetuous young assailant had left him 
at his mercy, another shout was given, and La Longue 
10 Carabine was seen rushing to the rescue, attended by all 
his white associates. The Huron instantly turned and 
commenced a rapid retreat up the ascent. 

There was no time for greetings or congratulations ; 
for Uncas, as though unconscious of the presence of his 
.15 friends, continued the pursuit with the velocity of the 
wind. In vain Hawkeye called to him to respect the 
covers ; the young Mohican braved the dangerous fire of 
his enemies, and soon compelled them to a flight as swift 
as his own headlong speed. It was fortunate that the 
20 race was of short continuance, and that the white men 
were much favored by their position, or the Delaware 
would soon have outstripped all his companions and 
fallen a victim to his own temerity. But ere such a 
calamity could happen the pursuers and pursued en- 
25 tered the Wyandot village within striking distance of 
each other. 

Excited by the presence of their dwellings and tired 
of the chase, the Hurons now made a stand, and fought 
around their council lodge with the fury of despair. The 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


595 


onset and the issue were like the passage and destruc¬ 
tion of a whirlwind. The tomahawk of Uncas, the 
blows of Hawkeye, and even the still nervous arm of 
Munro were all busy for that passing moment, and the 
ground was quickly strewed with their enemies. Still 5 
Magua, though daring and much exposed, escaped from 
every effort against his life with that sort of fabled pro¬ 
tection that was made to overlook the fortunes of favored 
heroes in the legends of ancient poetry. Raising a yell 
that spoke volumes of anger and disappointment, the 10 
subtle chief, when he saw his comrades fallen, darted 
away from the place, attended by his two only surviving 
friends, leaving the Delawares engaged in stripping the 
dead of the bloody trophies of their victory. 

But Uncas, who had vainly sought him in the melee, 15 
bounded forward in pursuit. Hawkeye, Heyward, and 
David still pressing on his footsteps. The utmost that 
the scout could effect was to keep the muzzle of his 
rifle a little in advance of his friend, to whom, however, 
it answered every purpose of a charmed shield. Once 20 
Magua appeared disposed to make another and a final 
effort to revenge his losses; but, abandoning his inten¬ 
tions so soon as demonstrated, he leaped into a thicket 
of bushes, through which he was followed by his enemies, 
and suddenly entered the mouth of the cave already 25 
known to the reader. Hawkeye, who had only forborne 
to fire in tenderness to Uncas, raised a shout of success 
and proclaimed aloud that now they were certain of 
their game. The pursuers dashed into the long and nar- 


596 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


row entrance in time to catch a glimpse of the retreat¬ 
ing forms of the Hurons. Their passage through the 
natural galleries and subterraneous apartments of the 
cavern was preceded by the shrieks and cries of hun- 
5 dreds of women and children. The place, seen by its 
dim and uncertain light, appeared like the shades of the 
infernal regions, across which unhappy ghosts and sav- 
age demons were flitting in multitudes. 

Still Uncas kept his eyes on Magua, as if life to him 
10 possessed but a single object. Heyward and the scout 
still pressed on his rear, actuated, though, possibly, in a 
less degree, by a common feeling. But their way was 
becoming intricate, in those dark and gloomy passages, 
and the glimpses of the retiring warriors less distinct 
15 and frequent; and for a moment the trace was believed 
to be lost, when a white robe was seen fluttering in the 
farther extremity of a passage that seemed to lead up 
the mountain. 

“ ’Tis Cora ! ” exclaimed Heyward, in a voice in which 
20 horror and delight were wildly mingled. 

"Coral Cora !” echoed Uncas, bounding forward like 
a deer. 

u ’Tis the maiden ! ” shouted the scout. “ Courage, 
lady; we come — we come.” 

25 The chase was renewed with a diligence rendered tern 
fold encouraging, by this glimpse of the captive. But 
the way was rugged, broken, and in spots nearly impas¬ 
sable. Uncas abandoned his rifle and leaped forward 
with headlong precipitation. Heyward rashly imitated 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


597 


his example, though both were, a moment afterwards, 
admonished of its madness by hearing the bellowing of 
a piece that the Hurons found time to discharge down 
the passage in the rocks, the bullet from which even 
gave the young Mohican a slight wound. 3 

“ We must close! ” said the scout, passing his friends 
by a desperate leap; “the knaves will pick us all off at 
this distance; and see; they hold the maiden so as to 
shield themselves ! ” 

Though his words were unheeded, or rather unheard, 10 
his example was followed by his companions, who by 
incredible exertions got near enough to the fugitives to 
perceive that Cora was borne along between the two 
warriors, while Magua prescribed the direction and 
manner of their flight. At this moment the forms of 15 
all four were strongly drawn against an opening in the 
sky, and they disappeared. Nearly frantic with disap¬ 
pointment Uncas and Heyward increased efforts that 
already seemed superhuman, and they issued from the 
cavern on the side of the mountain in time to note the 20 
route of the pursued. The course lay up the ascent and 
still continued hazardous and laborious. 

Encumbered by his rifle and, perhaps, not sustained 
by so deep an interest in the captive as his companions, 
the scout suffered the latter to precede him a little ; 23 
Uncas, in his turn, taking the lead of Heyward. In 
this manner rocks, precipices, and difficulties were sur¬ 
mounted in an incredibly short space, that at another 
time and under other circumstances would have been 


598 


JAMES FENIMOEE COOPER. 


deemed almost insuperable. But the impetuous young 
men were rewarded by finding that encumbered with 
Cora the Hurons were losing ground in the race. 

“ Stay, dog of the Wyandots! ” exclaimed Uncas, 
5 shaking his bright tomahawk at Magua; “a Delaware 
girl calls stay.” 

“ I will go no farther,” cried Cora, stopping unexpect¬ 
edly on a ledge of rocks that overhung a deep precipice, 
at no great distance from the summit of the mountain. 
10 “ Kill me if thou wilt, detestable Huron, I will go no 
farther. ” 

The supporters of the maiden raised their ready toma¬ 
hawks with the impious joy that fiends are thought to 
take in mischief, but Magua stayed their uplifted arms. 
15 The Huron chief, after casting the weapons he had 
wrested from his companions over the rock, drew his 
knife and turned to his captive, with a look in which 
conflicting passions fiercely contended. 

“ Woman,” he said, " choose ; the wigwam or the knife 
20 of Le Subtil! ” 

Cora regarded him not; but dropping on her knees, 
she raised her eyes and stretched her arms towards 
Heaven, saying, in a meek and yet confiding voice: 

“ I am thine ! do with me as thou seest best! ” 

25 “Woman,” repeated Magua hoarsely, and endeavor¬ 
ing in vain to catch a glance from her serene and beam¬ 
ing eye, “ choose.” 

But Cora neither heard nor heeded his demand. The 
form of the Huron trembled in every fibre, and he raised 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 599 

his arm on high, but dropped it again with a bewildered 
air, like one who doubted. Once more he struggled with 
himself, and lifted the keen weapon again; but just then 
a piercing cry was heard above them, and Uncas ap¬ 
peared, leaping frantically from a fearful height upon 
the ledge. Magua recoiled a step, and one of his assis¬ 
tants, profiting by the chance, sheathed his own knife in 
the bosom of Cora. 

The Huron sprang like a tiger upon his offending and 
already retreating countryman, but the falling form of 
Uncas separated the unnatural combatants. Diverted 
from his object by this interruption, and maddened by 
the murder he had just witnessed, Magua buried his 
weapon in the back of the prostrate Delaware; uttering 
an unearthly shout, as he committed the dastardly deed. 
But Uncas arose from the blow, as the wounded panther 
turns upon his foe, and struck the murderer of Cora to 
his feet by an effort in which the last of his failing 
strength was expended. Then, with a stern and steady 
look he turned to Le Subtil, and indicated by the ex¬ 
pression of his eye all that he would do, had not the 
power deserted him. The latter seized the nerveless 
arm of the unresisting Delaware and passed his knife 
into his bosom three several times, before his victim, 
still keeping his gaze riveted on his enemy with a look 
of inextinguishable scorn, fell dead at his feet. 

“ Mercy ! mercy! Huron,” cried Heyward, from above 
in tones nearly choked by horror; “ give mercy, and thou 
shalt receive it! ” 


5 

10 

15 

20 

25 


600 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


Whirling the bloody knife up at the imploring youth, 
the victorious Magua uttered a cry, so fierce, so wild, 
and yet so joyous, that it conveyed the sounds of savage 
triumph to the ears of those who fought in the valley, a 
5 thousand feet below. He was answered by a burst from 
the lips of the scout, whose tall person was just then 
seen moving swiftly towards him, along those dangerous 
crags, with steps as bold and reckless as if he possessed 
the power to move in air. But when the hunter reached 
10 the scene of the ruthless massacre the ledge was tenanted 
only by the dead. 

His keen eye took a single look at the victims, and 
then shot its glances over the difficulties of the ascent 
in his front. A form stood at the brow of the mountain, 
15 on the very edge of the giddy height, with uplifted 
arms, in an awful attitude of menace. Without stopping 
to consider his person, the rifle of Hawkeye was raised; 
but a rock, which fell on the head of one of the fugitives 
below, exposed the indignant and glowing countenance of 
20 the honest Gamut. Then Magua issued from a crevice, 
and, stepping with calm indifference over the body of 
the last of his associates, he leaped a wide fissure, and 
ascended the rocks at a point where the arm of David 
could not reach him. A single bound would carry him 
25 to the brow of the precipice and assure his safety. Be¬ 
fore taking the leap, however, the Huron paused, and 
shaking his hand at the scout, he shouted: 

“ The pale faces are dogs ! the Delawares women! 
Magua leaves them on the rocks for the crows! ” 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


601 


Laughing hoarsely, he made a desperate leap, and fell 
short of his mark, though his hands grasped a shrub 
on the verge of the height. The form of Hawkeye had 
crouched like a beast about to take its spring, and his 
frame trembled so violently with eagerness that the 
muzzle of the half-raised rifle played like a leaf flut¬ 
tering in the wind. Without exhausting himself with 
fruitless efforts, the cunning Magua suffered his body to 
drop to the length of his arms and found a fragment for 
his feet to rest upon. Then summoning all his powers, 
he renewed the attempt, and so far succeeded as to draw 
his knees on the edge of the mountain. It was now, 
when the body of his enemy was most collected together, 
that the agitated weapon of the scout was drawn to his 
shoulder. The surrounding rocks themselves were not 
steadier than the piece became for the single instant 
that it poured out its contents. The arms of the Huron 
relaxed, and his body fell back a little, while his knees 
still kept their position. Turning a relentless look on 
his enemy, he shook a hand at him in grim defiance. 
But his hold loosened, and his dark person was seen 
cutting the air with its head downwards for a fleeting 
instant, until it glided past the fringe of shrubbery which 
clung to the mountain, in its rapid flight to destruction. 


5 

10 

15 

20 


602 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER . 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

They fought, like brave men, long and well, 

They piled that ground with Moslem slain, 

They conquered — but Bozzaris fell, 

Bleeding at every vein. 

His few surviving comrades saw 

His smile when rang their proud hurrah, 

And the red field was won ; 

Then saw in death his eyelids close 
Calmly, as to a night’s repose, 

Like flowers at set of sun.— Halleck. 

The sun found the Lenape, on the succeeding, day, a 
nation of mourners. The sounds of the battle were 
over, and they had fed fat their ancient grudge, and 
had avenged their recent quarrel with the Mengwe by 
5 destruction of a whole community. The black and 
murky atmosphere that floated around the spot where 
the Hurons had encamped sufficiently announced, of 
itself, the fate of that wandering tribe; while hundreds 
of ravens, that struggled above the bleak summits of 
10 the mountains or swept in noisy flocks across the wide 
ranges of the woods, furnished a frightful direction tp 
the scene of the fatal combat. In short, any eye at all 
practised in the signs of a frontier warfare, might 
easily have traced all those unerring evidences of the 
15 ruthless results which attend an Indian vengeance. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


603 


Still, the sun rose on the Lenape, a nation of mourn¬ 
ers. No shouts of success, no songs of triumph, were 
heard in rejoicings for their victory. The latest strag¬ 
gler had returned from his fell employment only to 
strip himself of the terrific emblems of his bloody call- 5 
ing, and to join in the lamentations of his countrymen 
as a stricken people. Pride and exultation were sup¬ 
planted by humility, and the fiercest of human passions 
was already succeeded by the most profound and une¬ 
quivocal demonstrations of grief. 10 

The lodges were deserted; but a broad belt of earnest 
faces encircled a spot in their vicinity, whither every¬ 
thing possessing life had repaired, and where all were 
now collected in deep and awful silence. Though be¬ 
ings of every rank and age, of both sexes and of all pur -15 
suits, had united to form this breathing wall of bodies, 
they were influenced by a single emotion. Each eye 
was riveted on the centre of that ring, which contained 
the objects of so much, and of so common, an interest. 

Six Delaware girls, with their long, dark, flowing 20 
tresses, falling loosely across their bosoms, stood apart, 
and only gave proofs of their existence as they occasion¬ 
ally strewed sweet scented herbs and forest flowers on a 
litter of fragrant plants, that, under a pall of Indian 
robes, supported all that now remained of the ardent, 25 
high-souled, and generous Cora. Her form was con¬ 
cealed in many wrappers of the same simple manufac¬ 
ture, and her face was shut forever from the gaze of 
men. At her feet was seated the desolate Munro. His 


604 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER . 


aged head was bowed nearly to the earth, in compelled 
submission to the stroke of Providence; but a hidden 
anguish struggled about his furrowed brow, that was 
only partially concealed by the careless locks of gray 
5 that had fallen neglected on his temples. Gamut stood 
at his side, his meek head bared to the rays of the sun, 
while his eyes wandering and concerned, seemed to be 
equally divided between that little volume which con¬ 
tained so many quaint but holy maxims and the bein^, 
10 in whose behalf his soul yearned to administer their 
consolation. Heyward was also nigh, supporting him¬ 
self against a tree, and endeavoring to keep down those 
sudden risings of sorrow, that it required his utmost 
manhood to subdue. 

15 But sad and melancholy as this group may easily be 
imagined, it was far less touching than another that 
occupied the opposite space of the same area. Seated, 
as in life, with his form and limbs arranged in grave 
and decent composure, Uncas appeared, arrayed in the 
20 most gorgeous ornaments that the wealth of the tribe 
could furnish. Rich plumes nodded above his head; 
wampum, gorgets, bracelets, and medals adorned his 
person in profusion; though his dull eye, and vacant 
lineaments, too strongly contradicted the idle tale of 
25 pride they would convey. 

Directly in front of the corpse Chingachgook was 
placed, without arms, paint, or adornment of any sort, 
except the bright blue blazonry of his race that was 
indelibly impressed on his naked bosom. During the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


605 


long period that the tribe had been thus collected, the 
Mohican warrior had kept a steady, anxious look on 
the cold and senseless countenance of his son. So 
riveted and intense had been that gaze, and so change¬ 
less his attitude, that a stranger might not have told 5 
the living from the dead, but for the occasional gleam- 
ings of a troubled spirit, that shot athwart the dark 
visage of one, and the death-like calm that had forever 

settled on the lineaments of the other. 

. ¥ 

The scout was hard by, leaning in a pensive posture 10 
on his own fatal and avenging weapon ; while Tame- 
nund, supported by the elders of his nation, occupied a 
high place at hand, whence he might look down on the 
mute and sorrowful assemblage of his people. 

Just within the inner edge of the circle stood a sol- ns 
dier in the military attire of a strange nation; and 
without it was his war-horse, in the centre of a collection 
of mounted domestics, seemingly in readiness to under¬ 
take some distant journey. The vestments of the stran¬ 
ger announced him to be one who held a responsible 20 
situation near the person of the Captain of the Canadas; 
and who, as it would now seem, finding his errand of 
peace frustrated by the fierce impetuosity of his allies, 
was content to become a silent and sad spectator of the 
fruits of a contest, that he had arrived too late to an- 25 
ticipate. 

The day was drawing to the close of its first quarter, 
and yet had the multitude maintained its breathing 
stillness, since its dawn. No sound louder than a stifled 


606 


JAMES FEN1MORE COOPER. 


sob had been heard among them, nor had even a limb 
been moved throughout that long and painful period, 
except to perform the simple and touching offerings that 
were made, from time to time, in commemoration of the 
5 dead. The patience and forbearance of Indian fortitude 
could alone support such an appearance of abstraction, 
as seemed now to have turned each dark and motionless 
figure into stone. 

At length the sage of the Delawares stretched forth 
10 an arm, and, leaning on the shoulders of his attendants, 
he arose with an air as feeble, as if another age had 
already intervened between the man who had met his 
nation the preceding day, and him who now tottered on 
his elevated stand. 

15 “ Men of the Lenape ! ” he said, in hollow tones that 

sounded like a voice charged with some prophetic mis¬ 
sion : 11 the face of the Manitou is behind a cloud ! his 
eye is turned from you; his ears are shut; his tongue 
gives no answer. You see him not; yet his judgments 
•20 are before you. Let your hearts be open and your 
spirits tell no lie. Men of the Lenape, the face of the 
Manitou is behind a cloud ! ” 

As this simple and yet terrible annunciation stole on 
the ears of the multitude, a stillness as deep and awful 
25 succeeded, as if the venerated spirit they worshipped 
had uttered the words without the aid of human organs; 
and even the inanimate Uncas appeared a being of life, 
compared with the humbled and submissive throng by 
whom he was surrounded. As the immediate effect, 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


607 


however, gradually passed away, a low murmur of voices 
commenced a sort of chant in honor of the dead. The 
sounds were those of females, and were thrillingly soft 
and wailing. The words were connected by no regular 
continuation, but as one ceased, another took up the 
eulogy, or lamentation, whichever it might be called, 
and gave vent to her emotions, in such language as was 
suggested by her feelings and the occasion. At intervals 
the speaker was interrupted by general and loud bursts 
of sorrow, during which the girls around the bier of 
Cora plucked the plants and flowers blindly, from her 
body, as if bewildered with grief. But in the milder 
moments of their plaint, these emblems of purity and 
sweetness were cast back to their places with every sign 
of tenderness and regret. Though rendered less con¬ 
nected by many and general interruptions and outbreak- 
ings, a translation of their language would have contained 
a regular descant, which, in substance, might have proved 
to possess a train of consecutive ideas. 

A girl, selected for the task by her rank and qualifi¬ 
cations, commenced by modest allusions to the qualities 
of the deceased warrior, embellishing her expressions 
with those oriental images that the Indians have prob¬ 
ably brought with them from the extremes of the other 
continent, and which form of themselves a link to con¬ 
nect the ancient histories of the two worlds. She called 
him the “ panther of his tribe; ” and described him as 
one whose moccasin left no trail on the dews; whose 
bound was like the leap of the young fawn; whose eye 


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20 

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JAMES FENIMOEE COOPER . 


was brighter than a star in the dark night; and whose 
voice in battle was loud as the thunder of the Manitou. 
She reminded him of the mother who bore him, and 
dwelt forcibly on the happiness she must feel in pos- 
5 sessing such a son. She bade him tell her, when they 
met in the world of spirits, that the Delaware girls had 
shed tears above the grave of her child and had called 
her blessed. 

Then they who succeeded, changing their tones to a 
10 milder and still more tender strain, alluded, with the 
peculiar delicacy and sensitiveness of women, to the 
stranger maiden who had left the upper earth at a time 
so near his own departure as to render the will of the 
Great Spirit too manifest to be disregarded. They 
15 admonished him to be kind to her, and to have consider¬ 
ation for her ignorance of those arts, which were so 
necessary to the comfort of a warrior like himself. 
They dwelt upon her matchless beauty and on her 
noble resolution without the taint of envy, and as 
20 angels may be thought to delight in a superior excel¬ 
lence ; adding that these endowments should prove 
more than equivalent for any little imperfections in 
her education. 

After which, others again, in due succession, spoke to 
25 the maiden herself in the low, soft language of tender¬ 
ness and love. They exhorted her to be of cheerful 
mind, and to fear nothing for her future welfare. A 
hunter would be her companion, who knew how to pro¬ 
vide for her smallest wants; and a warrior was at her 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


609 


side, who was able to protect her against every danger. 
They promised that her path should be pleasant and her 
burden light. They cautioned her against unavailing 
regrets for the friends of her youth and the scenes 
where her fathers had dwelt; assuring her that the 
“blessed hunting-grounds of the Lenape” contained 
vales as pleasant, streams as pure, and flowers as 
sweet, as the “heaven of the pale faces.” They 
advised her to be attentive to the wants of her 
companion, and never to forget the distinction which 
the Manitou had so wisely established between them. 
Then in a wild burst of their chant they sang with 
united voices the temper of the Mohican’s mind. They 
pronounced him noble, manly, and generous; all that 
became a warrior and all that a maid might love. 
Clothing their ideas in the most remote and subtle 
images, they betrayed that in the short period of their 
intercourse, they had discovered with the intuitive per¬ 
ception of their sex, the truant disposition of his incli¬ 
nations. The Delaware girls had found no favor in his 
eyes. He was of a race that had once been lords on the 
shores of the salt lake, and his wishes had led him back 
to a people who dwelt about the graves of his fathers. 
Why should not such a predilection be encouraged ? 
That she was of a blood purer and richer than the rest 
of her nation, any eye might have seen. That she was 
equal to the dangers and daring of a life in the woods, 
her conduct had proved ; and now, they added, the “ wise 
one of the earth ” had transplanted her to a place where 


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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


she would find congenial spirits, and might be forever 
happy. 

Then, with another transition in voice and subject, 
allusions were made to the virgin who wept in the ad- 
5 jacent lodge. They compared her to flakes of snow; 
as pure, as white, as brilliant, and as liable to melt in 
the fierce heats of summer, or congeal in the frosts of 
winter. They doubted not that she was lovely in the 
eyes of the young chief, whose skin and whose sorrow 
10 seemed so like her own; but, though far from express¬ 
ing such a preference, it was evident they deemed her 
less excellent than the maid they mourned. Still they 
denied her no meed her rare charms might properly 
claim. Her ringlets were compared to the exuberant 
15 tendrils of the vine, her eye to the blue vault of the 
heavens; and the most spotless cloud, with its glow¬ 
ing flush of the sun, was admitted to be less attractive 
than her bloom. 

During these and similar songs, nothing was audible 
20 but the murmurs of the music; relieved as it was, or 
rather rendered terrible, by those occasional bursts of 
grief, which might be called its choruses. The Dela¬ 
wares themselves listened like charmed men ; and it was 
very apparent, by the variations of their speaking coun- 
25 tenances, how deep and true was their sympathy. Even 
David was not reluctant to lend his ears to the tones 
of voices so sweet; and long ere the chant was ended, 
his gaze announced that his soul was enthralled. 

The scout, to whom alone, of all the white men, the 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


611 


words were intelligible, suffered himself to be a little 
aroused from bis meditative posture, and bent his face 
aside to catch their meaning, as tJie girls proceeded. 
But when they spoke of the future prospects of Cora 
and Uncas, he shook his head, like one who knew the 
error of their simple creed, and resuming his reclining 
attitude, he maintained it until the ceremony — if that 
might be called a ceremony, in which feeling was so 
deeply imbued — was finished. Happily for the self- 
command of both Heyward and Munro, they knew not 
the meaning of the wild sounds they heard. 

Chingachgook was a solitary exception to the interest 
manifested by the native part of the audience. His 
look never changed throughout the whole of the scene, 
nor did a muscle move in his rigid countenance, even at 
the wildest or most pathetic parts of the lamentation. 
The cold and senseless remains of his son were all to 
him, and every other sense but that of sight seemed 
frozen, in order that his eyes might take their final gaze 
at those lineaments he had so long loved, and which 
were now about to be closed forever from his view. 

In this stage of the funeral obsequies, a warrior, much 
renowned for his deeds in arms, and more especially for 
his services in the recent combat, a man of stern and 
grave demeanor, advanced slowly from the crowd and 
placed himself nigh the person of the dead. 

“ Why hast thou left us, pride of the Wapanachki ? ” 
he said, addressing himself to the dull ears of Uncas, as 
if the empty clay retained the faculties of the animated 


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JAMES FENIMOEE COOPER. 


man; “ thy time has been like that of the sun when in 
the trees ; thy glory brighter than his light at noon-day. 
Thou art gone, youthful warrior, but a hundred Wyan- 
dots are clearing the briers from thy path to the world of 
5 spirits. Who that saw thee in battle, would believe that 
thou couldst die ? Who before thee hast ever shown 
Uttawa the way into the fight ? Thy feet were like the 
wings of eagles; thine arm heavier than falling branches 
from the pine ; and thy voice like the Manitou, when he 
10 speaks in the clouds. The tongue of Uttawa is weak,” 
he added, looking about him with a melancholy gaze, 
“and his heart exceeding heavy. Pride of the Wapa- 
nachki, why hast thou left us ? ” 

He was succeeded by others in due order, until most 
15 of the high and gifted men of the nation had sung or 
spoken their tribute of praise over the manes of the 
deceased chief. When each had ended, another deep 
and breathing silence reigned in all the place. 

Then a low, deep sound was heard, like the suppressed 
20 accompaniment of distant music, rising just high enough 
on the air to be audible, and yet so indistinctly as to 
leave its character and the place whence it proceeded, 
alike matters of Conjecture. It was, however, succeeded 
by another and another strain, each in a higher key, 
25 until they grew on the ear, first in long-drawn and often- 
repeated interjections, and finally in words. The lips of 
Chingachgook had so far parted as to announce that it 
was the monody of the father. Though not an eye was 
turned towards him, nor the smallest sign of impatience 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 


618 


exhibited, it was apparent by the manner in which the 
multitude elevated their heads to listen, that they drank 
in the sounds with an intenseness of attention that none 
but Tamenund himself had ever before commanded. But 
they listened in vain. The strains rose just so loud as 5 
to become intelligible, and then grew fainter and more 
trembling, until they finally sunk on the ear as if borne 
away by a passing breath of wind. The lips of the 
Sagamore closed, and he remained silent in his seat, 
looking, with his riveted eye and motionless form, like 10 
some creature that had been turned from the Almighty 
hand with the form, but without the spirit of a man. 
The Delawares, who knew by these symptoms that the 
mind of their friend was not prepared for so mighty an 
effort of fortitude, relaxed in their attention, and, with 15 
an innate delicacy, seemed to bestow all their thoughts 
on the obsequies of the stranger maiden. 

A signal was given by one of the elder chiefs to the 
women, who crowded that part of the circle near which 
the body of Cora lay. Obedient to the sign, the girls 20 
raised the bier to the elevation of their heads, and ad¬ 
vanced with slow and regulated steps, chanting, as they 
proceeded, another wailing song, in praise of the de¬ 
ceased. Gamut, who had been a close observer of rites 
he deemed so heathenish, now bent his head over the 25 
shoulder of the unconscious father, whispering: 

“ They move with the remains of thy child ; shall we 
not follow and see them interred with Christian burial ? ” 

Munro started, as if the last trumpet had sounded its 


614 


JAMES FENIM ORE COOPER 


blast in his ear, and bestowing one anxious and hurried 
glance around him, he arose and followed in the simple 
train, with the mien of a soldier, but bearing the full 
burden of a parent’s suffering. His friends pressed 
5 around him with a sorrow that was too strong to be 
termed sympathy — even the young Frenchman joining 
in the procession, with the air of a man who was sen¬ 
sibly touched at the early and melancholy fate of one 
so lovely. But when the last and humblest female of 
10 the tribe had joined in the wild and yet ordered array, 
the men of the Lenape contracted their circle, and 
formed, again, around the person of Uncas, as silent, 
as grave, and as motionless as before. 

The place which had been chosen for the grave of 
15 Cora was a little knoll, where a cluster of young and 
healthful pines had taken root, forming, of themselves, 
a melancholy and appropriate shade over the spot. On 
reaching it the girls deposited their burden and con¬ 
tinued for many minutes, waiting with characteristic 
20 patience and native timidity, for some evidence that they 
whose feelings were most concerned, were content with 
the arrangement. At length the scout, who alone under* 
stood their habits, said in their own language : 

“ My daughters have done well; the white men thank 
25 them.” 

Satisfied with this testimony in their favor, the girls 
proceeded to deposit the body in a shell, ingeniously and 
not inelegantly fabricated of the bark of the birch ; 
after which they lowered it into its dark and final abode. 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


615 


The ceremony of covering the remains, and concealing 
the marks of the fresh earth by leaves and other natu¬ 
ral and customary objects, was conducted with the same 
simple and silent forms. But when the labors of the 
kind beings, who had performed these sad and friendly 
offices were so far completed, they hesitated in a way to 
show that they knew not how much farther they might 
proceed. It was in this stage of the rites that the scout 
again addressed them: 

“ My young women have done enough,” he said; 
“ the spirit of a pale face has no need of food or rai¬ 
ment, their gifts being according to the heaven of their 
color. I see,” he added, glancing an eye at David, who 
was preparing his book in a manner that indicated an 
intention to lead the way in sacred song, “ that one who 
better knows the Christian fashions is about to speak.” 

The females stood modestly aside, and, from having 
been the principal actors in the scene, they now became 
the meek and attentive observers of that which followed. 
During the time David was occupied in pouring out the 
pious feelings of his spirit in this manner, not a sign of 
surprise nor a look of impatience escaped them. They 
listened like those who knew the meaning of the strange 
words, and appeared as if they felt the mingled emotions 
of sorrow, hope, and resignation, they were intended to 
convey. 

Excited by the scene he had just witnessed, and per¬ 
haps influenced by his own secret emotions, the master 
of song exceeded his usual efforts. His full, rich voice, 


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20 

25 


616 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


was not found to suffer by a comparison with the soft 
tones of the girls; and his more modulated strains pos¬ 
sessed, at least for the ears of those to whom they were 
peculiarly addressed, the additional power of intelligence. 
5 He ended the anthem, as he had commenced it, in the 
midst of a grave and solemn stillness. 

When, however, the closing cadence had fallen on the 
ears of his auditors, the secret, timorous glances of the 
eyes, and the general, and yet subdued movement of 
10 the assemblage, betrayed that something was expected 
from the father of the deceased. Munro seemed sensible 
that the time was come for him to exert what is, perhaps, 
the greatest effort of which human nature is capable. He 
bared his gray locks, and looked around the timid and 
15 quiet throng by which he was encirled, with a firm and 
collected countenance. Then motioning with his hand 
for the scout to listen, he said : 

“ Say to these kind and gentle females that a heart¬ 
broken and failing man returns them his thanks. Tell 
20 them that the Being we all worship under different 
names will be mindful of their charity; and that the 
time shall not be distant, when we may assemble around 
his throne, without distinction of sex or rank or color.” 

The scout listened to the tremulous voice in which 
25 the veteran delivered these words, and shook his head 
slowly, when they were ended, as one who doubted of 
their efficacy. 

“ To tell them this,” he said, 11 would be to tell them 
that the snows come not in the winter, or that the sun 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 617 

shines fiercest when the trees are stripped of their 
leaves! ” 

Then turning to the women, he made such a communi¬ 
cation of the other’s gratitude, as he deemed most suited 
to the capacities of his listeners. The head of Munro 
had already sunk upon his chest, and he was again fast 
relapsing into melancholy, when the young Frenchman 
before named ventured to touch him lightly on the elbow. 
As soon as he had gained the attention of the mourning 
old man, he pointed towards a group of young Indians, 
who approached with a light, but closely covered litter, 
and then pointed upward impressively towards the sun. 

“ I understand you, sir,” returned Munro, with a voice 
of forced firmness ; “ I understand you. It is the will of 
Heaven and I submit. Cora, my child ! if the prayers of 
a heart-broken father could avail thee now, how blessed 
shouldst thou be ! Come, gentlemen,” he added, looking 
about him with an air of lofty composure, though the 
anguish that quivered in his, faded countenance was far 
too powerful to be concealed, “ our duty here is ended; 
let us depart.” 

Heyward gladly obeyed a summons that took them 
from a spot, where each instant he felt his self-control 
was about to desert him. While his companions were 
mounting, however, he found time to press the hand of 
the scout, and to repeat the terms of an engagement they 
had made to meet again within the posts of the British 
army. Then gladly throwing himself into the saddle, 
he spurred his charger to the side of the litter, whence 


5 

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25 


618 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER . 


low and stifled sobs, alone announced the presence of 
Alice. In this manner, the head of Munro again drop¬ 
ping on his bosom, with Heyward and David following 
in sorrowing silence, and attended by the aide of Mont- 
5 calm with his guard, all the white men, with the excep¬ 
tion of Hawkeye, passed from before the eyes of the 
Delawares and were soon buried in the vast forests ol 
that region. 

But the tie which, through their common calamity, 
10 had united the feelings of these simple dwellers in the 
woods with the strangers who had thus transiently vis¬ 
ited them was not so easily broken. Years passed away 
before the traditionary tale of the white maiden and of 
the young warrior of the Mohicans ceased to beguile 
15 the long nights and tedious marches of their weariness, 
or to animate their youthful and brave with a desire for 
vengeance. Neither were the secondary actors in all 
these momentous incidents forgotten. Through the 
medium of the scout, who served for years afterwards, 
20 as a link between them and civilized life, they learned, 
in answer to their inquiries, that the “ Gray Head ” was 
speedily gathered to his fathers — borne down, as was 
erroneously believed, by his military misfortunes; and 
that the “ Open Hand ” had conveyed his surviving 
25 daughter far into the settlements of the “ pale-faces,” 
where her tears had at last ceased to flow, and had been 
succeeded by the bright smiles which were better suited 
to her joyous nature. 

But these were events of a. time later than that which 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS. 619 

concerns our tale. Deserted by all of his color, Hawk- 
eye returned to the spot where his own sympathies led 
him, with a force that no ideal bond of union could be¬ 
stow. He was just in time to catch a parting look of 
the features of Uncas, whom the Delawares were already 
enclosing in his last vestments of skins. They paused 
to permit the longing and lingering gaze of the sturdy 
woodsman, and when it was ended the body was envel¬ 
oped, never to be unclosed again. Then came a proces¬ 
sion like the other, and the whole nation was collected 
about the temporary grave of the chief — temporary, 
because it was proper, that at some future day, his bones 
should rest among those of his own people. 

The movement, like the feeling, had been simultane¬ 
ous and general. The same grave expression of grief, 
the same rigid silence, and the same deference to the 
principal mourner were observed, around the place of 
interment, as have been already described. The body 
was deposited in an attitude of repose, facing the rising 
sun, with the implements of war and of the chase at 
hand in readiness for the final journey. An opening 
was left in the shell, by which it was protected from the 
soil, for the spirit to communicate with its earthly tene¬ 
ment when necessary; and the whole was concealed 
from the instinct, and protected from the ravages, of 
the beasts of prey, with an ingenuity peculiar to the 
natives. The manual rites then ceased, and all present 
reverted to the more spiritual part of the ceremonies. 

Chingachgook became once more the object of the 


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25 


620 


JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 


common attention. He had not yet spoken, and some¬ 
thing consolatory and instructive was expected from so 
renowned a chief on an occasion of such interest. Con¬ 
scious of the wishes of the people, the stern and self- 
5 restrained warrior raised his face, which had latterly 
been buried in his robe, and looked about him, with a 
steady eye. His firmly compressed and expressive lips 
. then severed, and for the first time during the long cere¬ 
monies his voice was heard, distinctly audible. 

10 “ Why do my brothers mourn ? ” he said, regarding 

the dark race of dejected warriors, by whom he was en¬ 
vironed ; “ why do my daughters weep ? that a young 
man has gone to the happy hunting-grounds ! that a 
chief has filled his time with honor ! He was good ; he 
15 was dutiful; he was brave. Who can deny it ? The 
Manitou had need of such a warrior, and he has called 
him away. As for me, the son and the father of Uncas, 
I am a e blazed pine in a clearing of the pale faces.’ My 
race has gone from the shores of the salt lake and the 
20 hills of the Delawares. But who can say that the 
serpent of his tribe has forgotten his wisdom ? I am 
alone — ” 

“No, no,” cried Hawkeye, who had been gazing with 
a yearning look at the rigid features of his friend, with 
25 something like his own self-command, but whose philos¬ 
ophy could endure no longer; “ no, Sagamore, not alone. 
The gifts of our colors may be different, but God has 
so placed us as to journey in the same path. I have no 
kin, and I may also say, like you, no people. He was 


THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS . 


621 


your son and a redskin by nature; and it may be, that 
your blood was nearer—but if ever I forget the lad, 
who has so often fou't at my side in war and slept at 
my side in peace, may He who made us all, whatever 
may be our color or our gifts, forget me. The boy has 
left us for a time, but, Sagamore, you are not alone.” 

Chingachgook grasped the hands that, in the warmth 
of his feeling, the scout had stretched across the fresh 
earth, and in that attitude of friendship these two sturdy 
and intrepid woodsmen bowed their heads together, while 
scalding tears fell to their feet, watering the grave of 
Uncas like drops of falling rain. 

In the midst of the awful stillness with which such 
a burst of feeling, coming, as it did, from the two most 
renowned warriors of that region, was received, Tame- 
nund lifted his voice to disperse the multitude. 

“It is enough,” he said. “Go, children of the Le- 
nape; the anger of the Manitou is not done. Why 
should Tamenund stay ? The pale faces are masters of 
the earth, and the time of the redmen has not yet come 
again. My day has been too long. In the morning I 
saw the sons of Unamis happy and strong; and yet, be¬ 
fore the night has come, have I lived to see the last 
warrior of the wise race of the Mohicans! ” 


5 

10 

15 

20 


KEY 


TO THE PRONUNCIATION OF THE FRENCH NAMES 
IN “THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS.” 


[The sign (+) indicates that the preceding syllable is nasalized, i,e„ 
pronounced through the nose.] 


38 , 21 . 
88 , 5 . 
164 , 20 . 

174 , 29 . 

175 , 5 . 

175 , 14 . 

278 , 13 . 
299 , 1 . 

423 , 4 . 

435 , 14 . 
472 , 23 . 

519 , 3 . 


“du Saint Sacrament” (pronounced dii sai+ sah-kru- 
mah+ ). Of the Holy Sacrament. 

Le Renard Subtil (pronounced lu ru-nahr sub-teel). The 
Sly Fox. 

La Longue Carabine (pronounced lah loh + gh kah-rah- 
beeri). The Long Rifle. 

Le Gros Serpent (pronounced lu groh sair-pah+). The 
Big Serpent. 

Le Cerf Agile (pronounced lu sair-fah-zheeV). The 
Nimble Deer. 

Daim (pronounced dai+)\ Cerf (pronounced sair)\ 
illan (pronounced el-lah+'). 

bonhommie (pronounced bo-no-mee ). Good nature. 

un gentilhomme Frangais (pronounced u + zhah+ tee- 
yum frah + sai ). 

Grand Monarque (pronounced grah+ mo-nark). Great 
Monarch, the French king. 

Lenni Lenape (pronounced len-nee len-napp). 

Hors de combat (pronounced orr du koh+bah). No 
longer able to fight. 

Le coeur dur (pronounced lu kcer dur ). 


622 


NOTES 

CHAPTER I. 

37, 5-6. hostile provinces of France and England. The 

reader’s knowledge of American history should make the above 
reference clear. A reading of Chapter IV of Parkman’s Con¬ 
spiracy of Pontiac might prove interesting and enlightening. 

38, 20-21. purification of baptism. Baptism is necessary be¬ 
fore admittance into the Catholic faith. 

38, 25. the second of the House of Hanover. What was the 
ruler’s name? 

38, 28. Horican. “As each nation of the Indians had either 
its language or its dialect, they usually gave different names to 
the same places, though nearly all of their appellations were 
descriptive of the object. Thus, a literal translation of the name 
of this beautiful sheet of water, used by the tribe that dwelt on 
its banks, would be ‘The Tail of the Lake.’ Lake George, as it 
is vulgarly, and now indeed legally, called, forms a sort of tail 
to Lake Champlain when viewed on the map. Hence the name.” 
— Cooper. 

39, 4. portage. In this instance, a road about fifteen miles in 
length hewed through the forest between the two forts. 

39, 16-17. Forts were erected. See map. Why were those 
points important? 

40, 26-27. a Virginian boy. “Washington, who, after uselessly 
admonishing the European general of the danger into which he 
was heedlessly running, saved the remnants of the British army 
on this occasion by his decision and courage. The reputation 
earned by Washington in this battle was the principal cause of 
his being selected to command the American armies at a later 

623 


624 


NOTES. 


day. It is a circumstance worthy of observation that while 
all America rang with his well-merited reputation, his name does 
not occur in any European account of the battle; at least the 
author has searched for it without success. In this manner does 
the mother country absorb even the fame, under that system 
of rule.” — Cooper. 

Who was the European general, and where was the engage¬ 
ment? For a stirring account read Parkman’s Montcalm and 
Wolfe, Vol. I., pp. 204-227. (Little, Brown & Co., Boston, 1884.) 

41, 16. which. To note that this error is the result of Cooper’s 
carelessness is simply to offer explanation for the few incorrect 
constructions to be found in this story. 

44, 16. just as day began to draw. Notice, as you continue 
reading, Cooper’s very real and sympathetic ability in description. 

48, 4. that which is situate at the mouth of the Thames. 
New London, Conn. 

48, 7. snows. Two-masted square-rigged vessels which today 
are very rare. It is unlike the brig in that it has a trysail mast 
abaft the mainsail. 

48, 8. brigantines. Two-masted, square-rigged vessels dif¬ 
fering from a brig in not having a square mainsail. 

50, 16. beaver. A high silk riding-hat. 

CHAPTER II. 

53, 7. six allied nations. “There existed for a long time a 
confederation among the Indian tribes which occupied the north¬ 
western part of the Colony of New York, which was at first 
known as the ‘Five Nations.’ At a later day it admitted another 
tribe, when the appellation was changed to that of the ‘Six Na¬ 
tions.’ The original confederation consisted of the Mohawks, the 
Oneidas, the Senecas, the Cayugas, and the Onondagas. The 
sixth tribe was the Tuscaroras.” — Cooper. 

54, 21-22. Narragansett. “In the State of Rhode Island there 
is a bay called Narragansett, so named after a powerful tribe of 


NOTES. 


625 


Indians which formerly dwelt on its banks. Accident, or one of 
those unaccountable freaks which nature sometimes plays in 
the animal world, gave rise to a breed of horses which were once 
well known in America by the name of Narragansetts. They 
were small, commonly of the color called sorrel in America, and 
distinguished by their habit of pacing. Horses of this race were, 
and are still, in much request as saddle-horses, on account of 
their hardiness and the ease of their movements. As they were 
also sure of foot, the Narragansetts were greatly sought for by 
females who were obliged to travel over the roots and holes in 
the ‘new countries.’” — Cooper. 

56, 6-7. Canterbury gallop. The original term for canter, 
in allusion to the gait of pilgrims riding to Canterbury in Kent, 
England, seat of the Primate of the English Church. 

56, 25. ex-parte. Relating to one side only. 

67, 12. castor. A beaver hat. 

59, 7. Apollo. “The god of youth, manly beauty, music, 
song, and prophecy, the helper and the averter of evil.” 

60, 14. counter. A part set opposite to the air of a song, or 
hymn, and harmonizing, with it; here, alto. 

60, 27. profane. Not sacred. 

62, 3. Standish. The name of a psalm-tune. 

CHAPTER III. 

66, 22. scalping tuft. “The North American warrior caused 
the hair to be plucked from his whole body; a small tuft, only, 
was left on the crown of his head in order that his enemy might 
avail himself of it in wrenching off the scalp in the event of his 
fall. The scalp was the only admissible trophy of victory. Thus 
it was deemed more important to obtain the scalp than to kill 
the man. Some tribes lay great stress on the honor of striking 
a dead body. These practices have nearly disappeared among 
the Indians of the Atlantic States.” — Cooper. 

67, 11. hunting-shirt. “The hunting-shirt is a picturesque 


626 


NOTES. 


smock frock, being shorter, and ornamented with fringes and 
tassels. The colors are intended to imitate the hues of the wood 
with a view to concealment. Many corps of American riflemen 
have been thus attired; and the dress is one of the most striking 
of modern times. The hunting-shirt is frequently white.” 
— Cooper. 

67, 21-22. rifle of great length. “The rifle of the army is 
short; that of the hunter is always long.” — Cooper. 

68, 12. the big river. “The Mississippi. The scout alludes 
to a tradition which is very popular among the tribes of the 
Atlantic States. Evidence of their Asiatic origin is deduced from 
the circumstances, though great uncertainty hangs over the whole 
history of the Indians.” — Cooper. 

68, 20. Hawkeye. He bears different names in other of the 
‘ 1 Leatherstocking ’ ’ tales. 

69, 4. sparks below. The beaux of the settlements near the 
mouth of the Hudson. 

70, 1. Bumppos. His family name. In The Pioneers he is 
often called by his real name — Natty Bumppo. 

70, 19-20. towards the summer. In which direction? 

72, 9. salt lake. To what body of water does he refer? 

72, 21. A pine grew then. He uses this analogy to indicate 
that much time has passed since then and the moment of his 
speaking. 

73, 8. gifts. Abilities. 

73, 18. Sagamore. Chief of a tribe. 

73, 27-28. their kin in the Delaware country. Many of the 
Mohicans, crowded by the Mohawks, moved to be nearer their 
relatives in the vicinity of the Delaware River. Union of these 
families later destroyed their identity. 

75, 4. our very camp. This implies the scout’s connection with 
the American troops. 


NOTES. 


627 


CHAPTER IV. 

80, 27. a Huron. The Hurons were relatives of the Iroquois 
and allies of the French. 

81, 15. a Mingo. See Cooper’s explanation on page xxii. 

81,19-20. to make them women. The Delawares, conquered 

by the Iroquois, were thereafter called “women” and were for¬ 
bidden the use of arms. 


CHAPTER V. 

93, 28. marquee. A large field tent used generally by officers. 

95, 13. the disputed point. What was it? Look for this on 
the map. 

102, 7. Glenn’s. See map. 

102, 12. rift. Rapids. 

103, 15. varlets. Rascals. 

103, 20. Hollanders. “The reader will remember that New 
York was originally a colony of the Dutch.” — Cooper. 

103, 28. castle of his tribe. “The principal villages of the 
Indians are still called ‘castles’ by the whites of New York. 
‘Oneida castle’ is no more than a scattered hamlet; but the name 
is in general use.” — Cooper. Of course, the above usage is not 
recognized today. 

104, 17-18. skrimmage. Note the spelling. 

105, 17-18. the same as a book. Unintelligible. 

CHAPTER VI. 

109, 19. relish. Here used to mean salt. 

113, 20-21. deep, guttural voice. “The meaning of Indian 
words is much governed by the emphasis and tones.” — Cooper. 

115, 3. spruce. Spruce beer. 

115, 10. well-laced. Strongly flavored with alcohol. 

115, 26. Anan. (Acolloquialism.) “Eh? What?” A response 
to a remark not heard or not understood. 


628 


NOTES. 


115, 27-28. Connecticut levy. Connecticut troops called into 
service by the authority of the governor. 

117, 14. discovered. Disclosed. 

CHAPTER VII. 

124, 19. without a cross. Without Indian blood. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

142, 1 . busy piece. The rifle which he fired regularly. 

142, 18. line of white paint. Below the streak of paint on the 
warrior’s forehead. 

144, 10. Kill-deer. Hawkeye’s celebrated rifle. Read more 
about it in Deerslayer. 

151, 15. a speedy end. A swift death instead of one by 
torture. 

CHAPTER IX. 

169, 1. the fulness of time. The day of judgment. 

164, 18-19. patois of the Canadas. French dialect spoken 
by the Canadians. 

CHAPTER X. 

177, 22. manes. The spirits of the dead, especially of friends 
and ancestors. 

182, 16. medal. “It has long been a practice with the whites 
to conciliate the important men of the Indians by presenting 
medals, which are worn in the place of their own rude orna¬ 
ments.” — Cooper. 

186, 13. a distinguished officer of the crown. Sir William 
Johnson, superintendent of the affairs of the Six Nations. 

CHAPTER XI. 

193, 22-23. City of Cannon. Quebec. 


NOTES. 


629 


CHAPTER XII. 

219, 17. ox’s horn. Powder-horn. 

228, 22-23. as a deer does the licks. “Many of the animals 
of the American forests resort to those spots where salt springs are 
found. These are called ‘licks’ or ‘salt licks’ in the language of 
the country, from the circumstance that the quadruped is often 
obliged to lick the earth in order to obtain the saline particles.” 
— Cooper. 

229, 9-10. at that solitary and silent spring. The village of 
Ballston once flourished in this vicinity, and was, years ago, one 
of the two principal watering places in America. Ballston Springs 
are, however, no longer famous. 

229, 10. sister fountains. Saratoga Springs. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

233, 20. younker. Youngster. 

235, 23. Patteroon. Patroon. Proprietor of a large landed 
estate, holding his authority by grant from the old Dutch Colonial 
government. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

249, 19-20. Dutch-Frenchman. “Baron Dieskau, a German 
in the service of France.” -— Cooper. 

251, 20-21. superstitious terror. The scout apparently thinks 
that one of the slain has risen from the “bloody pond,” and is 
facing the shore. 

267, 20. the glacis. A sloping bank forming part of the 
defences of the fort. 

CHAPTER XV. 

270, 27. artificial waters. The Erie Canal. 

270, 29. a statesman. De Witt Clinton, governor of New 
York, 1817-1823; 1825-1828. 

276, 23. the last moment. The highest importance. 


630 


NOTES. 


278, 13. bonhomie. Geniality; quality of being a good 
fellow. 

279, 17-18. Woolwich Warren. Woolwich, in Kent, Eng¬ 
land, nine miles east of London, is noted for its arsenal. 

280, 5-6. the Earl of Loudon. At this time commander-in¬ 
chief of the forces in America. 

284, 9. Salique laws. Laws of the Salian Franks, one pro¬ 
vision of which was that male heirs should inherit lands in 
preference to female, best known by its special application to the 
exclusion of women from the throne of France. 

285, 1. Ces messieurs-la. Those gentlemen there, the Indians. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

288, 6. crack. A familiar chat; often brag, exaggeration. 

289, 13-14. all the Knights of St. Louis. Members of the 
French military order of St. Louis, named after Louis IX, who 
was canonized for his part in the Crusades. 

292, 21. that unfortunate class. On her mother’s side, Cora 
was remotely descended from the negro race. 

296, 3-4. Monsieur Vauban. A celebrated French military 
engineer. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

309, 22-23. struck the war post of the English. Pledged him¬ 
self to fight on the English side. 

325, 20-21. the protecting spirit of madness. The Indians 
held in reverence the insane and simple-minded. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

347, 3. curtain. Bastions are parts of a fortification standing 
out from the ramparts, facing two ways and thus defending the 
adjacent walls; the ramparts between the bastions are called 
curtains. 

348, 22. caged in Ty. Fort Ticonderoga. 


NOTES. 


631 


CHAPTER XX. 

Note the error in sentence structure at the bottom of page 373, 
top of page 374. to request the Indians would permit their 
enemies to approach a little nigher. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

386, 2. the Scaroon. The Schroon River. It is in the moun¬ 
tain valleys a little west of the Schroon that the closing scenes of 
the story are laid. 

387, 14. is stricken with a judgment and is mad. “Him whom 
Jove would destroy he first deprives of his reason” is an old 
Latin saying. 

391, 6. alluvion. A deposit of mud left by running water. 

391, 14. Pigeon-winging. Teaching fancy steps in dancing. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

404, 17. Non-composser. The scout’s version of one who is 
non compos mentis , not of sound mind. 

405, 1. province of the Jesuits. Canada. 

410, 14. that people. The Delawares. 

411, 7. the wish-ton-wish. The whippoorwill. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

423, 4. Grand Monarque. The King of France. 

423, 23-24. the Yengeese. The English. 

423, 28. Our Canada father. The governor of Canada, at this 
time the Marquis de Vaudreuil. 

424, 20. cunning men. Magicians; medicine men. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

445, 5. less gifted. Having less self-control. 


632 


NOTES. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

465, 20. a buck. A dandy. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

479, 4. intellects. Obsolete in the plural when used in this 
sense. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

610, 5. He called the animals his cousins. “ These harangues 
of the beasts are frequent among the Indians. They often 
address their victims in this way, reproaching them for cowardice 
or commending their resolutions, as they may happen to exhibit 
fortitude or the reverse in suffering.” — Cooper. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

525, 21-22. Tamenund. Tamenund (sometimes written Tam¬ 
many) was a noted sachem of the Delawares. He was friendly 
to the whites, sold land to William Penn, and used his influence 
to have his tribe give up war and learn to cultivate the soil. 
His motto is said to have been “United in peace for happiness, 
in war for defence.” Various American societies made him their 
patron saint before and after the Revolution. The Tammany 
Society of New York, founded in 1789, later became Tammany 
Hall, a political club. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

537, 23. a singing-bird. A deceiver. 

541, 22. Manitou. The Great Spirit. 

544, 23. Minquon. “William Penn was termed ‘Minquon’ 
by the Delawares; and as he never used violence or injustice in 
his dealings with them his reputation for probity passed into a 
proverb. The American is justly proud of the origin of his nation, 


NOTES. 


633 


which is perhaps unequalled in the history of the world, but the 
Pennsylvanian and Jerseyman have more reason to value them¬ 
selves in their ancestors than the natives of any other State, 
since no wrong was done the original owners of the soil.” 
— Cooper. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

550,6-7. Have the winters gone backward? Uncas’s voice stirs 
Tamenund’s memories. 

553, 9. Unamis. Turtle. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

676, 11. eclat. Brilliancy of achievement. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

595, 15. melee. Hand-to-hand fight. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

609, 16-17. Clothing their ideas in the most remote and 
subtle images. The delicacy and tenderness of this lament is a 
perfect close for Cooper’s delicate treatment of the sad love story 
which underlies the events of the book and furnishes motives for 
much of the action. 


QUESTIONS 

CHAPTER I. 

1. Why was it so difficult to wage war in the territory 
alluded to? 

2. In what year does Cooper place his story? How long had 
the war between England and France been going on? 

3. Who was the English general? 

4. Where was the engagement? 

6. Why was his army cut to pieces? 

6. Why did not General Webb send reenforcements to Colonel 
Munro? 

7. Is this a good introductory chapter? Why? 

CHAPTER II. 

1. To what degree is the development of the plot indicated in 
this chapter? Mention new plot elements. 

2. Why does Alice suspect the runner? 

3. What does her manner indicate in regard to her nature? 

4. What were a runner’s duties in the World War? 

5. Would a former enemy have been thus employed? 

CHAPTER III. 

1. What has Cooper accomplished in the conversation between 
the scout and Chingachgook? 

2. What is the scout so proud of in his own heritage? 

3. Why does poetical prose in the mouth of Chingachgook 
sound natural? If your friends spoke in that manner, why would 
it sound unnatural? 


634 


QUESTIONS. 


635 


CHAPTER IV. 

1. What are the signs which guide a good woodsman? Why is 
such knowledge so important in deep woods? 

2. Why had Major Heyward come to mistrust the runner? 

3. Why was it the scout so mistrusted the runner, even with¬ 
out knowing him? 

4. What were the scout’s plans for making the runner prisoner? 


CHAPTER V. 

1. Why did the scout and Chingachgook hesitate about taking 
the party to their “harboring place”? 

2. Where were the horses placed? Why there, especially? 

3. What danger did the scout fear from the proximity of 
wolves? 


CHAPTER VI. 

1. What divisions and what outlets had the cave? 

2. Do yt>u find any traces of humor in the scout’s talk after 
supper? 

3. What does Cooper imply in his description of the way in 
which Uncas served the sisters at supper? 

4. Why did Colonel Munro allow his daughters to visit him at a 
time of such danger? 

CHAPTER VII. 

1. What made the Iroquois certain that the party were on the 
island? 

2. Does it seem natural to you that the scout and the Indians 
did not recognize the source of the horrible cry? 

3. Why would flight not have been a refuge but a trap? 

4. Do you think Cooper overdoes the characterization of 
Duncan when he notes that Duncan’s first impulse is to go to the 
aid of the Indian being swept to his death in the swirling waters? 


636 


QUESTIONS. 


5. What is the meaning of the quotation which heads the 
chapter in regard to the chapter itself? 

CHAPTER yin. 

1. Was Cora’s plan a wise one? 

2. Do you think the scouts and the Indians should 
adopted it? 

3. In what sense did it take more courage to go than to 

4. Why do you think Uncas at first refused to go? 

5. Why did he eventually follow? 

CHAPTER IX. 

1. What is the outstanding scene in this chapter? 

2. How has Cooper heightened the dramatic effect of the 
capture? 

CHAPTER X. 

1. What were the French names of the scout and the 
Mohicans? 

2. What is their meaning? 

3. Why weren’t the captives murdered on the island? 

4. To what three qualities in Magua’s character does Heyward 
appeal? 

CHAPTER XI. 

1. Do you think Magua had reason to feel he had been injured 
by the white man? 

2. How does Magua show in his bargaining with both Hey¬ 
ward and Alice that his French name has been well bestowed? 

CHAPTER XII. 

1. What fundamental dramatic change has taken place in the 
last three chapters? 


have 

stay? 


QUESTIONS. 


637 


2. How were the rescuers able to follow the captives? 

3. Was it a matter of good fortune, or a deep knowledge of the 
woods? 

CHAPTER XIII. 

1. How did a blockhouse come to be built so far from civiliza¬ 
tion? 

2. What had taken place there? 

3. Why did the Hurons withdraw from the scene? 

4. Is the incident of the threatened attack well worked up? 

CHAPTER XIV. 

1. What was the history of the “bloody pond”? 

2. How was it the scout and the Mohicans could lead the party 
so unerringly in the night thru a region much of which was but 
little known to them? 

CHAPTER XV. 

1. Who had Munro sent as messenger to try to obtain re¬ 
enforcements? 

2. What was the outcome? 

3. What was Munro’s opinion of Montcalm? 

4. Why did he send Heyward to Montcalm? 

CHAPTER XVI. 

1. Why was Munro so much surprised and agitated by Hey¬ 
ward’s desire to marry Alice? 

2. Why was Munro so suspicious of Montcalm? 

3. What caused Munro to consent to surrender? 

4. What were the terms of surrender? 

CHAPTER XVII. 

1. At whom was the rifle of Magua aimed? 

2. Whose was the responsibility for the massacre? 


638 QUESTIONS. 

3. Why did not Montcalm order the main body of his troops 
to intervene? 

4. Why did Magua stride away with Alice in his arms? 

CHAPTER XIX. 

1. Why was there an enemy Indian still lurking about the fort? 
CHAPTER XX. 

1. Why were hostile Indians still on the lake? 

2. Why didn’t the bullets break the paddles? 

CHAPTER XXI. 

1. How was the scout able to come upon the trail again? 

2. Why didn’t Uncas immediately point out the evidence that 
indicated the sought-for trail? 

3. Explain the mystery of the strange village and the solitary 
Indian. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

1. What was the connection between Chingachgook and the 
tribe with which Cora was placed? What proved this connec¬ 
tion? 

2. What was Heyward’s plan? 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

1. What is the most dramatic incident in this chapter? 

2. How was Uncas captured? 

3. Why was Reed-that-Bends put to death? 

4. What success has Heyward achieved so far in carrying out 
his plan? 


QUESTIONS . 


639 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

1. What purpose was the death of Uncas to serve? 

2. Why did Magua deflect the aim of the tomahawk hurled at 
Uncas? 

3. What was David doing during his absence from Heyward? 

CHAPTER XXV. 

1. What had Hawkeye been doing from the time Heyward left 
him until they met in the cave? 

2. Why did not the scout kill Magua? 

3. What plan of action was agreed upon? 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

1. Why was David allowed free access to Uncas? 

2. Why was the “bear” allowed to roam at will? 

3. Does the escape of Hawkeye and Uncas seem plausible? 

4. Why would David be reasonably safe from the anger of the 
Hurons? 

5. What part does David play in the story so far? 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

1. Is the purpose of Magua and his Huron braves warlike or 
peaceful? 

2. What means of disguise has Cooper repeated? Is its use 
effective? 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

1. What Indian characteristics are brought out in this chapter? 

2. What is the purpose of the council about to be held? 

3. Why is the question so important and difficult? 


640 


QUESTIONS. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

1. Why did Heyward try to hide Hawkeye’s identity? 

2. What purpose does the shooting contest serve? 

3. Why did Magua dwell upon the different races and the 
former greatness of the Lenape? 

4. Upon what grounds did Tamenund decide that the fugitives 
belonged to Magua? 

CHAPTER XXX. 

1. What saved Uncas from being burned at the stake? 

2. Why did Tamenund rejoice when Uncas’s real identity was 
disclosed? 

3. Why was Uncas unable to obtain Cora’s liberty? 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

1. Why were the Delawares about to go on the warpath? 

2. What personal emotions particularly prompted Uncas to 
lead his men to battle? 

3. What was the plan of attack? 

4. Why was the Indian boy so proud to be entrusted with the 
gun? 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

1. Why is the death of Cora and Uncas a more suitable ending 
for the story than their preservation would have been? 

2. Why is it fitting that the scout killed Magua? 

3. Whom do you regard as the hero of the book? 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

1. What Indian beliefs appear here concerning the soul after 
death? 

2. How do they differ from our beliefs? 


BRIEF THEME SUBJECTS 

CHAPTER I. 

1. Discuss the state of mind of both the settlers and General 
Webb and his forces. 

2. Describe the character who had what “might have been 
easily mistaken for some mischievous and unknown implement of 
war.” 

3. Describe the scene as the travelers departed. 

CHAPTER II. 

1. Characterize Alice, and contrast her character with Cora’s. 

2. Describe the setting of the closing incident. Explain its 
significance. 

3. Explain why Major Heyward did not investigate when he 
thought he saw eyes shining from the thicket. 

CHAPTER III. 

1. Write a description of the scout and Chingachgook. 

2. Relate the conversation between the scout and Chingach¬ 
gook. 

3. What is the meaning of the quotation which heads the 
chapter in regard to the chapter itself? 

CHAPTER IV. 

1. Describe the day as spent by the travelers. 

2. Recount the conversation between the scout and Major 
Heyward. 


641 


642 


BRIEF THEME SUBJECTS. 


3. What is the meaning of the quotation at the beginning of 
the chapter in regard to the chapter itself? 

CHAPTER V. 

1. Discuss the journey by canoe to the “harboring place.” 

2. Did the killing of the colt seem justifiable to you? 

3. What new traits are observable in the character of the scout? 

CHAPTER VI. 

1. Describe the scene in the cavern. 

2. What is the most picturesque aspect of it? 

3. Explain why the first strange cry sounded doubly horrible. 

4. What type of modern story would employ such an incident? 

5. What is the meaning of the quotation which heads the 
chapter? How does it link up with the chapter itself? 

CHAPTER VII. 

1. Why is the island well situated to withstand an attack by 
superior numbers? 

2. Picture how the swimmers gained the rock, and the sub¬ 
sequent fight. 

3. Is Cooper able to give the feel of reality to scenes of action? 
Explain by specific instances. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

1. Describe the scene of the fight up to the scout’s departure. 

2. Show what added characteristics of the scout are developed 
in this chapter. 

CHAPTER IX. 

1. Describe the scene after the party has retired into the cave. 

2. Show how Cooper has indicated the basic characteristic of 
Gamut’s character. 


BRIEF THEME SUBJECTS. 


643 


CHAPTER X. 

1. Explain the attitude of Magua and his band toward the 
scout and the Mohicans. 

2. Reconstruct the scene between Heyward and Magua. 

CHAPTER XI. 

1. Reproduce the harangue by which Magua incites his 
followers. 

2. Discuss the plausibility of the arrival, in the nick of time, 
of the scout and the Mohicans. 

CHAPTER XII. 

1. Dramatize the fight on the hilltop. 

2. Tell what was in Hawkeye’s “book.” 

3. Discuss Uncas’s attitude toward the sisters, and what it 
implies. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

1. Describe the blockhouse and its surroundings. 

2. Reproduce the scene of the threatened attack and the with¬ 
drawal of the Indians. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

1. Describe the situation of Fort William Henry and the 
position of the besieging army. 

2. Tell briefly what happened after the meeting with the 
sentinel at Bloody Pond until the party gained the protection of 
the fort. 

CHAPTER XV. 

1. Discuss the general conditions that existed within the camp 
and the fort. 

2. In your own words dramatize the scene between Montcalm 
and Heyward. 


644 


BRIEF THEME SUBJECTS. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

1. Write a seventy-five word character sketch of Montcalm. 

2. Dramatize in your own words the scene between Munro 
and Heyward. 

3. Describe the scene of the meeting of Munro, Heyward, and 
Montcalm. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

1. Explain why Magua demanded blood. 

2. Give a brief, graphic description of the massacre. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

1. Explain the purpose of this chapter. What incidents make 
up its “backbone”? Are there any scenes which would profit 
by condensation or expansion? Discuss the place of this chapter 
in the framework of the story. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

1. Describe the makeshift quarters in the fort. 

2. Describe by the use of your imagination Uncas’s sally out 
onto the plain. 

CHAPTER XX. 

1. Describe the chase on the lake. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

1. Describe the strange village and the solitary Indian from 
Heyward’s point of vantage. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

1. Describe Heyward’s disguise and explain how he purposed 
employing it. 


BRIEF THEME SUBJECTS. 


645 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

1. Describe the scene from the entrance of Heyward and 
Gamut into the hut to the execution of the Indian brave. 

2. Describe the scene when Uncas ran the gauntlet. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

1. Give in your own words the harangue delivered by Magua 
and explain its intent. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

1. Give a description of the scene in the cave when Magua is 
overpowered, and the scout and Heyward carry Alice from it. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

1. Recount the escape of Hawkeye and Uncas. 

2. Write a character sketch of David, bringing out the out¬ 
standing traits of his character. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

1. Explain why Magua had to reestablish himself in the eyes of 
his tribe. 

2. Explain the relations between the Hurons and their 
Delaware neighbors. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

1. Describe the scene when the entire tribe of the Delawares 
is assembled. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

1. Describe the person of Tamenund, and explain why he was 
so greatly venerated. 


646 


BRIEF THEME SUBJECTS. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

1. Describe the scene of Uncas’s trial and eventual recognition. 

2. Explain where you think the highest dramatic point of the 
chapter is reached. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

1. Describe the scene that took place about the warpath. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

1. Describe the story of the Indian fight. 

2. Describe the death of Cora and Uncas and the final destruc¬ 
tion of Magua. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

1. Contrast the scenes of the two burials. 

2. Tell the story of this chapter in your own words. 

3. Contrast the sorrowing figures of Munro and Tamenund. 

4. Does this chapter form a satisfactory conclusion to the 
story? If you had been writing the book, would you have 
changed any of the incidents or ideas? Why? 

5. Does this story make you want to read more of Cooper’s 
works? Discuss. 



















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